Meat And Potatoes Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Meat And Potatoes. Here they are! All 100 of them:

To fulfill a dream, to be allowed to sweat over lovely labor, to be given the chance to create, is the meat and potatoes of life. The money is the gravy.
Bette Davis
And to preserve their independence, we must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt. We must make our election between economy and liberty, or profusion and servitude. If we run into such debts, as that we must be taxed in our meat and in our drink, in our necessaries and our comforts, in our labors and our amusements, for our callings and our creeds, as the people of England are, our people, like them, must come to labor sixteen hours in the twenty-four, give the earnings of fifteen of these to the government for their debts and daily expenses; and the sixteenth being insufficient to afford us bread, we must live, as they now do, on oatmeal and potatoes; have no time to think, no means of calling the mismanagers to account; but be glad to obtain subsistence by hiring ourselves to rivet their chains on the necks of our fellow-sufferers.
Thomas Jefferson (Letters of Thomas Jefferson)
Another piece of advice: I've learned over the years that everything is more or less the same amount of work. So you may as well set your sights high and try and do something really cool. There are other people around who can do the mediocre meat and potatoes work that anybody can do. So let them do that. You make the art that only you can make. You tell the stories only you can tell.
Neil Gaiman (The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction)
We are, from a purely biological perspective, simply breathing pieces of defecating meat, no more significant or enduring than a lizard or a potato.
Sheldon Solomon (The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life)
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would not take the garbage out! She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans, Candy the yams and spice the hams, And though her daddy would scream and shout, She simply would not take the garbage out. And so it piled up to the ceilings: Coffee grounds, potato peelings, Brown bananas, rotten peas, Chunks of sour cottage cheese. It filled the can, it covered the floor, It cracked the window and blocked the door With bacon rinds and chicken bones, Drippy ends of ice cream cones, Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, Pizza crusts and withered greens, Soggy beans and tangerines, Crusts of black burned buttered toast, Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . . The garbage rolled on down the hall, It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . . Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs, Globs of gooey bubble gum, Cellophane from green baloney, Rubbery blubbery macaroni, Peanut butter, caked and dry, Curdled milk and crusts of pie, Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, Eggshells mixed with lemon custard, Cold french fried and rancid meat, Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat. At last the garbage reached so high That it finally touched the sky. And all the neighbors moved away, And none of her friends would come to play. And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said, "OK, I'll take the garbage out!" But then, of course, it was too late. . . The garbage reached across the state, From New York to the Golden Gate. And there, in the garbage she did hate, Poor Sarah met an awful fate, That I cannot now relate Because the hour is much too late. But children, remember Sarah Stout And always take the garbage out!
Shel Silverstein
I was on a mission. I had to learn to comfort myself, to see what others saw in me and believe it. I needed to discover what the hell made me happy other than being in love. Mission impossible. When did figuring out what makes you happy become work? How had I let myself get to this point, where I had to learn me..? It was embarrassing. In my college psychology class, I had studied theories of adult development and learned that our twenties are for experimenting, exploring different jobs, and discovering what fulfills us. My professor warned against graduate school, asserting, "You're not fully formed yet. You don't know if it's what you really want to do with your life because you haven't tried enough things." Oh, no, not me.." And if you rush into something you're unsure about, you might awake midlife with a crisis on your hands," he had lectured it. Hi. Try waking up a whole lot sooner with a pre-thirty predicament worm dangling from your early bird mouth. "Well to begin," Phone Therapist responded, "you have to learn to take care of yourself. To nurture and comfort that little girl inside you, to realize you are quite capable of relying on yourself. I want you to try to remember what brought you comfort when you were younger." Bowls of cereal after school, coated in a pool of orange-blossom honey. Dragging my finger along the edge of a plate of mashed potatoes. I knew I should have thought "tea" or "bath," but I didn't. Did she want me to answer aloud? "Grilled cheese?" I said hesitantly. "Okay, good. What else?" I thought of marionette shows where I'd held my mother's hand and looked at her after a funny part to see if she was delighted, of brisket sandwiches with ketchup, like my dad ordered. Sliding barn doors, baskets of brown eggs, steamed windows, doubled socks, cupcake paper, and rolled sweater collars. Cookouts where the fathers handled the meat, licking wobbly batter off wire beaters, Christmas ornaments in their boxes, peanut butter on apple slices, the sounds and light beneath an overturned canoe, the pine needle path to the ocean near my mother's house, the crunch of snow beneath my red winter boots, bedtime stories. "My parents," I said. Damn. I felt like she made me say the secret word and just won extra points on the Psychology Game Network. It always comes down to our parents in therapy.
Stephanie Klein (Straight Up and Dirty)
Too many poets act like a middle-aged mother trying to get her kids to eat too much cooked meat, and potatoes with drippings (tears). I don't give a damn whether they eat or not. Forced feeding leads to excessive thinness (effete). Nobody should experience anything they don't need to, if they don't need poetry bully for them. I like the movies too. And after all, only Whitman and Crane and Williams, of the American poets, are better than the movies.
Frank O'Hara
Being bisexual is like spending your life choosing between meat and potatoes.” Marnie suddenly guffawed. “Make that bananas and mangos!
Eli Easton (The Mating of Michael (Sex in Seattle, #3))
How do you do that?” I asked. “What do witches eat?” “Witches loves pork meat,” she said. “They loves rice and potatoes. They loves black-eyed peas and cornbread. Lima beans, too, and collard greens and cabbage, all cooked in pork fat. Witches is old folks, most of them. They don’t care none for low-cal. You pile that food on a paper plate, stick a plastic fork in it, and set it down by the side of a tree. And that feeds the witches.” The
John Berendt (Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil)
if you train a dog so that it only eats potatoes, and then after a while you offer it a chunk of meat, it’ll still grab it because it’s in its nature. And if you offer a man a bit of power, the same thing happens; he’ll grab it. It’s instinctive, because when it comes down to it, a man is basically a beast, and it’s only later that a bit of decency gets smeared on top, the way you can spread dripping on your bread.
Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front)
One acre of land can produce either 20,000 pounds of potatoes or a measly 165 pounds of meat.
Lindsay S. Nixon (The Happy Herbivore Cookbook: Over 175 Delicious Fat-Free and Low-Fat Vegan Recipes)
Some enterprising rabbit had dug its way under the stakes of my garden again. One voracious rabbit could eat a cabbage down to the roots, and from the looks of things, he'd brought friends. I sighed and squatted to repair the damage, packing rocks and earth back into the hole. The loss of Ian was a constant ache; at such moments as this, I missed his horrible dog as well. I had brought a large collection of cuttings and seeds from River Run, most of which had survived the journey. It was mid-June, still time--barely--to put in a fresh crop of carrots. The small patch of potato vines was all right, so were the peanut bushes; rabbits wouldn't touch those, and didn't care for the aromatic herbs either, except the fennel, which they gobbled like licorice. I wanted cabbages, though, to preserve a sauerkraut; come winter, we would want food with some taste to it, as well as some vitamin C. I had enough seed left, and could raise a couple of decent crops before the weather turned cold, if I could keep the bloody rabbits off. I drummed my fingers on the handle of my basket, thinking. The Indians scattered clippings of their hair around the edges of the fields, but that was more protection against deer than rabbits. Jamie was the best repellent, I decided. Nayawenne had told me that the scent of carnivore urine would keep rabbits away--and a man who ate meat was nearly as good as a mountain lion, to say nothing of being more biddable. Yes, that would do; he'd shot a deer only two days ago; it was still hanging. I should brew a fresh bucket of spruce beer to go with the roast venison, though . . . (Page 844)
Diana Gabaldon (Drums of Autumn (Outlander, #4))
Reading is a lot like fine dining... Some readers prefer just the meat and potatoes; I enjoy a seven-course meal.
Carmen DeSousa
Dinners are mostly dull, awful things, all meat and potatoes and things to build healthy minds and bodies. Boring. I bet your dinners with the dead people were a lot more fun.
Seanan McGuire (Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children, #1))
Is most of your work out there?” she asked. “Yeah.” “Why didn’t you move out there?” “’Cause LA is insanity, filled with fruits and nuts. Indiana is sanity, meat and potatoes. I’m a meat and potatoes man.
Kristen Ashley (At Peace (The 'Burg, #2))
Vegan Vengeance" - A Vegan teams up with “Carrot Chick", Broccoli Boy" and Paul Potato" to battle meat eaters everywhere. If “Oliver Onion” joins in they may stand a chance of making the enemy cry every time they eat meat!!
Neil Leckman
We all emerge into this material soup, mix about with the meat and potatoes of life, and then slip away, back to the primordial germination whence we came. Nascence is a strange business: we forget what we were doing only to come forth and continually forget what we were doing perpetually over the course of a lifetime, until it is time to quit this plane through some unseen and ethereal vomitorium, and presumably forget that we had forgotten all over again.
Michelle Franklin
Dinner was wonderful. There was a joint of beef, with roast potatoes, golden-crisp on the outside and soft and white inside, buttered greens I did not recognize, although I think now that they might have been nettles, toasted carrots all blackened and sweet (I did not think that I liked cooked carrots, so I nearly did not eat one but I was brave, and I tried it, and I liked it, and was disappointed in boiled carrots for the rest of my childhood.) For dessert there was the pie, stuffed with apples and with swollen raisins and crushed nuts, all topped with a thick yellow custard, creamier and richer than anything I had ever tasted at school or at home. The kitten slept on a cushion beside the fire, until the end of the meal, when it joined a fog-colored house cat four times its size in a meal of scraps of meat.
Neil Gaiman (The Ocean at the End of the Lane)
Milk was used in various forms during the summer months; in winter beer or water was used. Bread, cakes, potatoes, and sea food were the principal foods. Animal flesh was not used commonly due to the inconvenience of storing. Turf was the common fuel.
William Petty
Open-faced sandwiches with the meat married to toasted buns and the flavor garnished rather than suppressed by scraped Bermuda onion and thin-sliced dill, a salad made from things she had scrounged out of his refrigerator, potatoes crisp but not vulcanized.
Robert A. Heinlein (The Year of the Jackpot (The Galaxy Project))
Think of music like you think of eating. There's meat and potatoes, very hearty basic comfort food that sticks to your bones and nourishes you. Then there's fluff. Chips, dessert, junk food. Stuff that won't make you healthy but you prefer because it's quick and there.
Jennifer Laurens (A Season of Eden)
All vegans and vegetarians have heard it: “But what about the plants? What about their feelings? They feel pain, too. Don’t you feel bad for the carrots? You are killing them, you know.” Sorry, but the above represent the dumbest set of excuses I’ve ever heard as to why some people claim eating animals is morally equivalent to eating plants. Tellingly, these people’s concern for plant feelings has not reared its head over eating a baked potato with steak, or seeing capers in chicken piccata. No, it’s arisen because the conversation has turned to cruelty toward the animals we eat, something that’s difficult to swallow.
Mikko Alanne
At present the meat industry not only inflicts untold misery on billions of sentient beings but is also one of the chief causes of global warming, one of the main consumers of antibiotics and poison, and one of the foremost polluters of air, land, and water. According to a 2013 report by the Institution of Mechanical Engineers, it takes nearly four thousand gallons of fresh water to produce a little over two pounds of beef, compared to the seventy-five gallons needed to produce the same weight of potatoes.
Yuval Noah Harari (21 Lessons for the 21st Century)
When all’s said and done they’re a strange breed, these South and East Londoners, and they’re amused by little things. Their love of jellied eels and pie ‘n’ mash is astonishing. “Food of the Gods,” they call it, as they enter some filthy hovel to order pie ‘n’ mash, without even knowing what they’re eating. I’ve asked what meat it is and been told, “Meat? Its pie, pie ‘n’ mash with liquor. Food of the Gods.” But it’s not food of the Gods at all. It’s just pie and mashed potatoes, and that’s it. Nothing special about it. There’s nothing nostalgic about it. It’s not Bermondsey Billy Wells or the Artful Dodger. It’s just a meat pie and mashed potatoes. And it looks like Barry Manilow’s blown his nose in it.
Karl Wiggins (Calico Jack in your Garden)
Pronunciamento of memento is risorgimento that let slip the meat-and-potatoes.
Anyaele Sam Chiyson (The Sagacity of Sage)
stocked with staples: juice, milk, eggs, bacon, a few bags of deli meats and cheeses, a plastic carton of potato salad. There’s a rack of Poland Spring water, a rack of Coke,
Stephen King (Billy Summers)
two to three tablespoonfuls was equal to two pounds of meat, with the advantage that it lends to the laborers’ potatoes and peas “a very agreeable taste!
Mary Roach (Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal)
I’ve learned over the years that everything is more or less the same amount of work. So you may as well set your sights high and try and do something really cool. There are other people around who can do the mediocre, meat and potatoes work that anybody can do. So let them do that. You make the art that only you can make; you tell the stories only you can tell.
Neil Gaiman (The View from the Cheap Seats: Selected Nonfiction)
Look, if you train a dog so that it only eats potatoes, and then after a while you offer it a chunk of meat, it'll still grab it because it's in its nature. And if you offer a man a bit of power, the same thing happens; he'll grab it. It's instinctive, because when it comes down to it, a man is basically a beast, and it's only later that a bit of decency gets smeared on top, the way you spread dripping on your bread.
Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front)
Ultimately, the roast turkey must be regarded as a monument to Boomer's love. Look at it now, plump and glossy, floating across Idaho as if it were a mammoth, mutated seed pod. Hear how it backfires as it passes the silver mines, perhaps in tribute to the origin of the knives and forks of splendid sterling that a roast turkey and a roast turkey alone possesses the charisma to draw forth into festivity from dark cupboards. See how it glides through the potato fields, familiarly at home among potatoes but with an air of expectation, as if waiting for the flood of gravy. The roast turkey carries with it, in its chubby hold, a sizable portion of our primitive and pagan luggage. Primitive and pagan? Us? We of the laser, we of the microchip, we of the Union Theological Seminary and Time magazine? Of course. At least twice a year, do not millions upon millions of us cybernetic Christians and fax machine Jews participate in a ritual, a highly stylized ceremony that takes place around a large dead bird? And is not this animal sacrificed, as in days of yore, to catch the attention of a divine spirit, to show gratitude for blessings bestowed, and to petition for blessings coveted? The turkey, slain, slowly cooked over our gas or electric fires, is the central figure at our holy feast. It is the totem animal that brings our tribe together. And because it is an awkward, intractable creature, the serving of it establishes and reinforces the tribal hierarchy. There are but two legs, two wings, a certain amount of white meat, a given quantity of dark. Who gets which piece; who, in fact, slices the bird and distributes its limbs and organs, underscores quite emphatically the rank of each member in the gathering. Consider that the legs of this bird are called 'drumsticks,' after the ritual objects employed to extract the music from the most aboriginal and sacred of instruments. Our ancestors, kept their drums in public, but the sticks, being more actively magical, usually were stored in places known only to the shaman, the medicine man, the high priest, of the Wise Old Woman. The wing of the fowl gives symbolic flight to the soul, but with the drumstick is evoked the best of the pulse of the heart of the universe. Few of us nowadays participate in the actual hunting and killing of the turkey, but almost all of us watch, frequently with deep emotion, the reenactment of those events. We watch it on TV sets immediately before the communal meal. For what are footballs if not metaphorical turkeys, flying up and down a meadow? And what is a touchdown if not a kill, achieved by one or the other of two opposing tribes? To our applause, great young hungers from Alabama or Notre Dame slay the bird. Then, the Wise Old Woman, in the guise of Grandma, calls us to the table, where we, pretending to be no longer primitive, systematically rip the bird asunder. Was Boomer Petaway aware of the totemic implications when, to impress his beloved, he fabricated an outsize Thanksgiving centerpiece? No, not consciously. If and when the last veil dropped, he might comprehend what he had wrought. For the present, however, he was as ignorant as Can o' Beans, Spoon, and Dirty Sock were, before Painted Stick and Conch Shell drew their attention to similar affairs. Nevertheless, it was Boomer who piloted the gobble-stilled butterball across Idaho, who negotiated it through the natural carving knives of the Sawtooth Mountains, who once or twice parked it in wilderness rest stops, causing adjacent flora to assume the appearance of parsley.
Tom Robbins (Skinny Legs and All)
For instance, if you train a dog to eat potatoes and then afterwards put a piece of meat in front of him, he’ll snap at it, it’s his nature. And if you give a man a little bit of authority he behaves just the same way, he snaps at it too.
Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front)
Why not let up on the bitchery just a little, Margot,” Macomber said, cutting the eland steak and putting some mashed potato, gravy and carrot on the downturned fork that tined through the piece of meat.“I suppose I could,” she said, “since you put it so prettily.
Ernest Hemingway (The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber)
Per ounce, organic grass-finished beef is cheaper than many common foods like potato chips, red wine, name-brand cookies, popular coffee drinks, fancy donuts, and even fresh strawberries. And if we were to compare price per gram of protein, or per micronutrient, we’d see an even better value.
Diana Rodgers (Sacred Cow: The Case for (Better) Meat: Why Well-Raised Meat Is Good for You and Good for the Planet)
Wanting All Husband, it's fine the way your mind performs Like a circus, sharp As a sword somebody has To swallow, rough as a bear, Complicated as a family of jugglers, Brave as a sequined trapeze Artist, the only boy I ever met Who could beat me in argument Was why I married you, isn't it, And you have beaten me, I've beaten you, We are old polished hands. Or was it your body, I forget, maybe I foresaw the thousands on thousands Of times we have made love Together, mostly meat And potatoes love, but sometimes Higher than wine, Better than medicine. How lately you bite, you baby, How angels record and number Each gesture, and sketch Our spinal columns like professionals. Husband, it's fine how we cook Dinners together while drinking, How we get drunk, how We gossip, work at our desks, dig in the garden, Go to the movies, tell The children to clear the bloody table, How we fit like puzzle pieces. The mind and body satisfy Like windows and furniture in a house. The windows are large, the furniture solid. What more do I want then, why Do I prowl the basement, why Do I reach for your inside Self as you shut it Like a trunkful of treasures? Wait, I cry, as the lid slams on my fingers.
Alicia Suskin Ostriker
They walked on with him until they came to a dirty shop window in a dirty street, which was made almost opaque by the steam of hot meats, vegetables, and puddings. But glimpses were to be caught of a roast leg of pork bursting into tears of sage and onion in a metal reservoir full of gravy, of an unctuous piece of roast beef and blisterous Yorkshire pudding, bubbling hot in a similar receptacle, of a stuffed fillet of veal in rapid cut, of a ham in a perspiration with the pace it was going at, of a shallow tank of baked potatoes glued together by their own richness, of a truss or two of boiled greens, and other substantial delicacies.
Charles Dickens (Little Dorrit)
The traditional ingredients of the 'oggie', as it is called in the old Cornish language, are naturally disputed, but on some things most experts agree: the meat must be chopped, not minced, the vegetables (perhaps potato, onion and turnip) must be sliced and the ingredients are not pre-cooked before they are put in the pastry.
Janet Clarkson (Pie: A Global History (The Edible Series))
Good people, your food is digested by various juices in the stomach. There is a stomach juice for everything you eat. There is a juice for meat and a juice for potatoes. There is a juice for chitterlings and a juice for sweet potato pie. There is a juice for buttermilk and a juice for hopping John. But sometimes it happens these juices get mixed up and the wrong juice is applied to the wrong food. Now you might eat corn on the cob which has just been taken out of the pot and it’s so hot you burn your tongue. Well, your mouth gets mixed up and sends the wrong signal to your stomach. And your stomach hauls off and lets go with the juice for cayenne pepper. Suddenly you got an upset stomach and the hot corn goes to your head. It causes a burning fever and your temperature rises. Your head gets so hot it causes the corn to begin popping. And the popped corn comes through your skull and gets mixed up with your hair. And that’s how you get dandruff. Dusty Fletcher at the Apollo Theater on 125th Street in Harlem
Chester Himes (Blind Man with a Pistol (Harlem Cycle, #8))
Ildiko shuddered.  Her hope to never again see or eat the Kai’s most beloved and revolting delicacy had been in vain.  When Brishen informed her that the dish was one of Serovek’s favorites, she resigned herself to another culinary battle with her food and put the scarpatine on the menu.  She ordered roasted potatoes as well, much to the head cook’s disgust. When servants brought out the food and set it on the table, Brishen leaned close and whispered in her ear.  “Revenge, wife?” “Hardly,” she replied, keeping a wary eye on the pie closest to her.  The golden top crust, with its sprinkle of sparkling salt, pitched in a lazy undulation.  “But I’m starving, and I have no intention of filling up on that abomination.” Their guest of honor didn’t share their dislike of either food.  As deft as any Kai, Serovek made short work of the scarpatine and its whipping tail, cleaved open the shell with his knife and took a generous bite of the steaming gray meat. Ildiko’s stomach heaved.  She forgot her nausea when Serovek complimented her.  “An excellent choice to pair the scarpatine with the potato, Your Highness.  They are better together than apart.” Beside her, Brishen choked into his goblet.  He wiped his mouth with his sanap.  “What a waste of good scarpatine,” he muttered under his breath. What a waste of a nice potato, she thought.  However, the more she thought on Serovek’s remark, the more her amusement grew. “And what has you smiling so brightly?”  Brishen stared at her, his lambent eyes glowing nearly white in the hall’s torchlight. She glanced at Serovek, happily cleaning his plate and shooting the occasional glance at Anhuset nearby.  Brishen’s cousin refused to meet his gaze, but Ildiko had caught the woman watching the Beladine lord more than a few times during dinner. “That’s us, you know,” she said. “What is us?” “The scarpatine and the potato.  Better together than alone.  At least I think so.” One of Brishen’s eyebrows slid upward.  “I thought we were hag and dead eel.  I think I like those comparisons more.”  He shoved his barely-touched potato to the edge of his plate with his knife tip, upper lip curled in revulsion to reveal a gleaming white fang. Ildiko laughed and stabbed a piece of the potato off his plate.  She popped it into her mouth and chewed with gusto, eager to blunt the taste of scarpatine still lingering on her tongue.
Grace Draven (Radiance (Wraith Kings, #1))
(Come later that year, he would be eating French fries and potato pancakes almost exclusively, and wouldn’t touch anything else. We would try to smuggle ground pieces of meat or vegetables in the pancakes, but it would rarely work: Bartek’s overly sensitive palate would detect the pancake’s uneven surface. He would react by spitting and screaming.)
Rafał Motriuk (Autistic Son, Desperate Dad: How one family went from low- to high-functioning)
Then there is the boy who talks out loud to himself and his only subject is food. This is what he sounds like— Meat, stew, potatoes, peppers, roasted turnips, spices, flour to thicken. Cook over low heat. Potato dumplings, edges browned, not burned. Ladle thick gravy on roast. Cabbage galumpkies, noodle kugel, Carrot cake with dates, finely chopped…
Jennifer Roy (Yellow Star)
Shadow had no idea what a pasty was, but he said that would be fine, and in a few moments Mabel returned with a plate with what looked like a folded-over pie on it. The lower half was wrapped in a paper napkin. Shadow picked it up with the napkin and bit into it: it was warm and filled with meat, potatoes, carrots, onions. “First pasty I’ve ever had,” he said. “It’s real good.
Neil Gaiman (American Gods)
The house had a small galley kitchen where my mother performed daily miracles, stretching a handful into a potful, making the most of what we raised. Cooking mostly from memory and instinct, she took a packet of meat, a bunch of greens or a bag of peas, a couple of potatoes, a bowl of flour, a cup of cornmeal, a few tablespoons of sugar, added a smattering of this and a smidgeon of that, and produced meals of rich and complementary flavors and textures. Delicious fried chicken, pork chops, and steak, sometimes smothered with hearty gravy, the meat so tender that it fell from the bone. Cob-scraped corn pan-fried in bacon drippings, served with black-eyed peas and garnished with thick slices of fresh tomato, a handful of diced onion, and a tablespoon of sweet pickle relish. A mess of overcooked turnips simmering in neck-bone-seasoned pot liquor, nearly black—tender and delectable. The greens were minced on the plate, doused with hot pepper sauce, and served with a couple sticks of green onions and palm-sized pieces of hot-water cornbread, fried golden brown, covered with ridges from the hand that formed them, crispy shell, crumbly soft beneath.
Charles M. Blow (Fire Shut Up in My Bones)
The dinner itself might well have been planned by the same mind that had devised the décor: black bean soup, crab meat and slivers of crab shell done in cream, roasted crown of lamb with bone tips decently encased in little paper drawers, tiny hard potatoes, green peas ruined by chopped carrots, asparagus instead of salad, and the dessert called, perhaps a shade hysterically, Cherries Jubilee.
Dorothy Parker (Complete Stories (Penguin Classics))
At 5:10 A.M., the el train from the Morse stop in Chicago to the Davis St. stop in Evanston is surprisingly safe for young white women. The only people on the train at that hour are Polish women on their way home from cleaning office buildings all night. They share plastic containers of pale Slavic food that you know is buttery and delicious. It’s just potatoes, rice, meat, and cabbage in an endless series of combinations.
Tina Fey (Bossypants)
Red meat isn’t a chemical. What is it about the red meat? The meat? The red? To be fair to the authors, they also studied white meat which was mostly beneficial. But what about potatoes? Cupcakes? Breakfast cereal? Are these completely neutral? If we ran these through the same computer, what would we see? Unspoken, in everybody’s mind is saturated fat, that Rasputin of nutritional risk factors who will come after you despite enough bullets in its body to have killed several scientific theories.
Richard David Feinman (The World Turned Upside Down: The Second Low-Carbohydrate Revolution)
The silence was oddly comfortable, broken by the clink of cutlery and passing of the dishes. She was torn between joining them at the table or shunning them as she’d done in the past. Finally she sat down, Red Shirt across from her. His plate was full, but he made no move to eat. Instead his tan fingers toyed with the knife and fork, turning them over as if contemplating what to do next. He shot a glance at her, lingering on her hands as she draped a napkin across her lap and took up her own utensils. Was he trying to copy her . . . perhaps please her? His hesitancy was so touching she swallowed down the ache in her throat with a forkful of potato. He followed with a forkful of his own and eyed her as she picked up her knife. He did the same, but slowly, cutting his meat by pinning it properly with his fork first. She could feel Pa’s eyes on them both—no doubt he was enjoying their peculiar interaction. At the end of the table sat Surrounded, missing nothing, but shunning utensils as was his custom.
Laura Frantz (Courting Morrow Little)
from Testimony" Outside the night was cold, the snow was deep on sill and sidewalk; but in our kitchen it was bright and warm. I smelt the damp clothes as my mother lifted them from the basket, the pungent smell of melting wax as she rubbed it on the iron, and the good lasting smell of meat and potatoes in the black pot that simmered on the stove. The stove was so hot it was turning red. My mother lifted the lid of the pot to stir the roast with a long wooden spoon: Father would not be home for another hour. I tugged at her skirts. Tell me a story! Once upon a time (the best beginning!) there was a rich woman, a baroness, and a poor woman, a beggar. The poor woman came every day to beg and every day the rich woman gave her a loaf of bread until the rich woman was tired of it. I will put poison in the next loaf, she thought, to be rid of her. The beggar woman thanked the baroness for that loaf and went to her hut, but, as she was going through the fields, she met the rich woman's son coming out of the forest. "Hello, hello, beggar woman!" said the young baron, "I have been away for three days hunting and am very hungry. I know you are coming from my mother's and that she has given you a loaf of bread; let me have it--she will give you another." "Gladly, gladly," said the beggar woman, and, without knowing it was poisoned, gave him the loaf. But, as he went on, he thought, I am nearly home-- I will wait. You may be sure that his mother was glad to see him, and she told the maids to bring a cup of wine and make his supper--quickly quickly! "I met the beggar woman," he said, "And was so hungry I asked for the loaf you gave her." "Did you eat it, my son?" the baroness whispered. "No, I knew you had something better for me than this dry bread." She threw it right into the fire, and every day, after that, gave the beggar woman a loaf and never again tried to poison her. So, my son, if you try to harm others, you may only harm yourself. And, Mother, if you are a beggar, sooner or later, there is poison in your bread.
Charles Reznikoff
At present the meat industry not only inflicts untold misery on billions of sentient beings but is also one of the chief causes of global warming, one of the main consumers of antibiotics and poison, and one of the foremost polluters of air, land, and water. According to a 2013 report by the Institution of Mechanical Engineers, it takes nearly four thousand gallons of fresh water to produce a little over two pounds of beef, compared to the seventy-five gallons needed to produce the same weight of potatoes.11
Yuval Noah Harari (21 Lessons for the 21st Century)
The blocks of the Healthy Eating Pyramid include: • vegetable oils such as olive and canola oil as the primary sources of fat • an abundance of vegetables and fruits, not including potatoes or corn • whole-grain foods at most meals • healthy sources of protein such as beans, nuts, seeds, fish, poultry, and eggs • a daily calcium supplement or dairy foods one to two times a day • a daily multivitamin • for those who choose to drink, alcohol in moderation • red meat, white bread, potatoes, soda, and sweets only occasionally if at all.
Walter C. Willett (Eat, Drink, and Be Healthy: The Harvard Medical School Guide to Healthy Eating)
Stewed eggplant; chicken steaks in egg batter; marinated peppers with buckwheat honey; herring under potatoes, beets, carrots, and mayonnaise; bow-tie pasta with kasha, caramelized onions, and garlic; ponchiki with mixed-fruit preserves; pickled cabbage; pickled eggplant; meat in aspic; beet salad with garlic and mayonnaise; kidney beans with walnuts; kharcho and solyanka; fried cauliflower; whitefish under stewed carrots; salmon soup; kidney beans with the walnuts swapped out for caramelized onions; sour cabbage with beef; pea soup with corn; vermicelli and fried onions.
Boris Fishman (A Replacement Life)
On 20 November, front-line troops got 500 grams of bread per day, factory workers received 250, and everyone else 125 (that is, two slices). ‘Twigs were collected and stewed,’ records an historian of the siege. ‘Peat shavings, cottonseed cake, bonemeal was pressed into use. Pine sawdust was processed and added to the bread. Mouldy grain was dredged from sunken barges and scraped out of the holds of ships. Soon Leningrad bread was containing 10% cottonseed cake that had been processed to remove poisons. Household pets, shoe leather, fir bark and insects were consumed, as was wallpaper paste which was reputed to be made with potato flour. Guinea pigs, white mice and rabbits were saved from vivisection in the city’s laboratories for a more immediately practical fate. ‘Today it is so simple to die,’ wrote one resident, Yelena Skryabina, in her diary. ‘You just begin to lose interest, then you lie on your bed and you never get up again. Yet some people were willing to go to any lengths in order to survive: 226 people were arrested for cannibalism during the siege. ‘Human meat is being sold in the markets,’ concluded one secret NKVD report, ‘while in the cemeteries bodies pile up like carcasses, without coffins.
Andrew Roberts (The Storm of War: A New History of the Second World War)
Chinese Pot Roast 1 chuck roast, about 4 lb. 2 garlic cloves, minced A dash of nutmeg and cinnamon 2 tbsp. brown sugar 1 tbsp. sherry or red wine ¼ cup soy sauce 1¼ cups water 3 peeled and sliced carrots 3 potatoes, peeled and cubed 1 celery stalk, sliced 2 tbsp. cornstarch   Marinate the meat in the next six ingredients for at least 3 hours. Place the meat in a roasting pan at 325 degrees for 2 hours. Add the vegetables 45 minutes before cooking time ends. Voila!   Tory Simmons’ Simmering Family Cookbook Chapter 14   Tory was putting a Chinese pot roast in the oven when she heard a car pull into the drive.
Ava Miles (Country Heaven (Dare River, #1))
Cheeseburger-Stuffed Twice-Baked Potatoes • MAKES 8 SERVINGS • THIS RECIPE IS THE LUSCIOUS love-child of a stuffed potato skin and a cheeseburger, where Russet potatoes are scooped out and twice-baked to make crispy carriers for a generous helping of beefy filling that’s smothered in melted cheddar cheese. It tastes as decadent as it sounds, but it is actually quite healthy, because hollowing out the potatoes keeps carbs in check (and gives you the makings of mashed potatoes for the next day) and amping up lean beef with chopped mushrooms, broccoli, and tomatoes gives you a big portion with a sensible amount of meat.
Ellie Krieger (You Have It Made: Delicious, Healthy, Do-Ahead Meals)
He never developed the walk that men get when the day is over and they are going back to their cells for another endless night—that flat-footed, hump-shouldered walk. Andy walked with his shoulders squared, and his step was always light, as if he were heading home to a good home-cooked meal and a good woman instead of to a tasteless mess of soggy vegetables, lumpy mashed potato, and a slice or two of that fatty, gristly stuff most of the cons called mystery meat . . . that, and a picture of Raquel Welch on the wall. But for those four years, although he never became exactly like the others, he did become silent, introspective, and brooding.
Stephen King (Different Seasons: Four Novellas)
Eusie knocked the ashes out of his pipe and considered his plight out loud. He, who had always eaten kosher, he, the oldest son of an oldest son of a respected family, in fact, he Meyer Mossel Eusebius Smit, was seriously being asked to eat pork. Betsie placed a helping of sausage and potato before him. “Bon appetit.” The tantalizing odor reached our meat-starved palates. Eusie wet his lips with his tongue. “Of course,” he said, “there’s a provision for this in the Talmud.” He speared the meat with his fork, bit hungrily, and rolled his eyes heavenward in pure pleasure. “And I’m going to start hunting for it, too,” he said, “just as soon as dinner’s over.
Corrie ten Boom (The Hiding Place)
My mother was the best and most beautiful woman who ever lived. She was clean, and good, and always helped "the poor and needy who cluster round your door," like it says in the poetry piece, and there never could have been a reason why God would want a woman to suffer herself, when she went flying on horseback even dark nights through rain or snow, to doctor other people's pain, and when she gave away things like she did—why, I've seen her take a big piece of meat from the barrel, and a sack of meal, and heaps of apples and potatoes to carry to Mandy Thomas—when she gave away food by the wagonload at a time, God couldn't have wanted her to be hungry, and yet she was that very minute almost crying for food;
Gene Stratton-Porter (Laddie: A True Blue Story)
His eyes gleaming, he lifted the cover from a dish. “Some chicken, my dear?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached across the table, picked up her plate, and piled several tender slabs of choice white meat on her plate. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Do you prefer white meat or dark?” “White.” He nodded in self-satisfaction and plucked the cover off another dish. “Some potatoes?” He spooned some onto her plate, then uncovered another dish. “Turnips? Ah, what have we here . . . carrots. Will you have some, dearest?” “Please.” “And what is this—ah, cornbread!” Maeve’s head jerked up. “Cornbread?” “New England fare, is it not?” Again, that swift, disarming grin, that wicked sparkle of challenge and amusement in his eyes. “I thought you’d find it . . . agreeable.
Danelle Harmon (My Lady Pirate (Heroes of the Sea #3))
More food is good, but agricultural diets can provoke mismatch diseases. One of the biggest problems is a loss of nutritional variety and quality. Hunter-gatherers survive because they eat just about anything and everything that is edible. Hunter-gatherers therefore necessarily consume an extremely diverse diet, typically including many dozens of plant species in any given season.26 In contrast, farmers sacrifice quality and diversity for quantity by focusing their efforts on just a few staple crops with high yields. It is likely that more than 50 percent of the calories you consume today derived from rice, corn, wheat, or potatoes. Other crops that have sometimes served as staples for farmers include grains like millet, barley, and rye and starchy roots such as taro and cassava. Staple crops can be grown easily in massive quantities, they are rich in calories, and they can be stored for long periods of time after harvest. One of their chief drawbacks, however, is that they tend to be much less rich in vitamins and minerals than most of the wild plants consumed by hunter-gatherers and other primates.27 Farmers who rely too much on staple crops without supplemental foods such as meat, fruits, and other vegetables (especially legumes) risk nutritional deficiencies. Unlike hunter-gatherers, farmers are susceptible to diseases such as scurvy (from insufficient vitamin C), pellagra (from insufficient vitamin B3), beriberi (from insufficient vitamin B1), goiter (from insufficient iodine), and anemia (from insufficient iron).28 Relying heavily on a few crops—sometimes just one crop—has other serious disadvantages, the biggest being the potential for periodic food shortages and famine. Humans,
Daniel E. Lieberman (The Story of the Human Body: Evolution, Health and Disease)
He carefully poured the juice into a bowl and rinsed the scallops to remove any sand caught between the tender white meat and the firmer coral-colored roe, wrapped around it like a socialite's fur stole. Mayur is the kind of cook (my kind), who thinks the chef should always have a drink in hand. He was making the scallops with champagne custard, so naturally the rest of the bottle would have to disappear before dinner. He poured a cup of champagne into a small pot and set it to reduce on the stove. Then he put a sugar cube in the bottom of a wide champagne coupe (Lalique, service for sixteen, direct from the attic on my mother's last visit). After a bit of a search, he found the crème de violette in one of his shopping bags and poured in just a dash. He topped it up with champagne and gave it a swift stir. "To dinner in Paris," he said, glass aloft. 'To the chef," I answered, dodging swiftly out of the way as he poured the reduced champagne over some egg yolks and began whisking like his life depended on it. "Do you have fish stock?" "Nope." "Chicken?" "Just cubes. Are you sure that will work?" "Sure. This is the Mr. Potato Head School of Cooking," he said. "Interchangeable parts. If you don't have something, think of what that ingredient does, and attach another one." I counted, in addition to the champagne, three other bottles of alcohol open in the kitchen. The boar, rubbed lovingly with a paste of cider vinegar, garlic, thyme, and rosemary, was marinating in olive oil and red wine. It was then to be seared, deglazed with hard cider, roasted with whole apples, and finished with Calvados and a bit of cream. Mayur had his nose in a small glass of the apple liqueur, inhaling like a fugitive breathing the air of the open road. As soon as we were all assembled at the table, Mayur put the raw scallops back in their shells, spooned over some custard, and put them ever so briefly under the broiler- no more than a minute or two. The custard formed a very thin skin with one or two peaks of caramel. It was, quite simply, heaven. The pork was presented neatly sliced, restaurant style, surrounded with the whole apples, baked to juicy, sagging perfection.
Elizabeth Bard (Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes)
It goes without saying that the meat is tender... ... but the generous helping of minced onions on top just whets the appetite further! And this full-bodied flavor... red wine? After searing the steak, he must have added red wine to the remaining meat juices and caramelized the onions in the resulting sauce!" "Not only that, the sauce was beautifully thickened with potato starch! It wraps around both the meat and the rice so perfectly, it's amazing!" "And tying it all together is the flavor of scorched soy sauce! Even char was used as a seasoning to deepen the flavor! He made this special, unforgettable sauce building upon the onions that are so critical to a true Chaliapin Steak!" "Both the meat and the sauce have strong, solid flavors... yet the more I eat, the hungrier I get. In fact, it almost feels like I could eat this bowl endlessly! Why? Is there some other secret hidden in this dish?" "Yep! That trick is in the rice. I added in some handmade pickled-plum mix to it. It's crisp plum-seasoned rice!" "Aha! So that's it! That brisk aftertaste that encourages another bite is pickled plum!" The tender, fragrant steak... the beautifully thickened, perfect sauce... and the fresh, tartly flavored plum-seasoned rice.
Yūto Tsukuda (Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 2)
My mouth- always so active, alert- could now generally identify forty of fifty states in the produce or meat I ate. I had taken to tracking those more distant elements on my plate, and each night, at dinner, a U.S. map would float up in my mind as I chewed and I'd use it to follow the nuances in the parsley sprig, the orange wedge, and the baked potato to Florida, California, and Kansas, respectively. I could sometimes trace eggs to the county. All the while, listening to my mother talk about carpentry, or spanking the bottle of catsup. It was a good game for me, because even though it did command some of my attention, it also distracted me from the much louder and more difficult influence of the mood of the food maker, which ran the gamut. I could be half aware of the conversation, cutting up the meat, and the rest of the time I was driving truck routes through the highways of America, truck beds full of yellow onions. When I went to the supermarket with my mother I double-checked all my answers, and by the time I was twelve, I could distinguish an orange slice from California from an orange slice from Florida in under five seconds because California's was rounder-tasting, due to the desert ground and the clear tangy water of far-flung irrigation.
Aimee Bender (The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake)
It's a guy thing. We like euphemisms. He could just as easily have said doing the nasty, shagging, banging, screwing, humping, baking the potato, boning, boom-boom, four-legged foxtrot, glazing the donut, hitting a home run, launching the meat missile, makin' bacon, opening the gates of Mordor, pelvic pinochle, planting the parsnip, releasing the kraken, rolling in the hay, stuffin' the muffin, or two-ball in the middle pocket..." He trailed off when he noticed their shocked expressions. "Or sex," he added. "He could have just said that." "No wonder you don't have a girlfriend." Layla gave him a withering look. "I can't imagine a woman who would stick around after you took her for a nice dinner and then said, Hey babe, let's go launch the meat missile , or my personal favorite, release the kraken." "I didn't say I used them." Sam loosened his collar. Why was the restaurant so damn hot? "You know them. That's bad enough." Dilip tipped his head to the side. "What's a kraken?" "That's what I'm going to do to Sam's head in about three seconds," Layla said. Sam smirked. "A kraken is an enormous mythical sea monster." "Are we in middle school?" Layla looked around the bare room in mock confusion. "Because I could swear you were just talking about the size of your-
Sara Desai (The Marriage Game (Marriage Game #1))
What the..." Ranulf barked behind her. "Where's the meat? The butter?" Bronwyn smiled. It was going to be a hard few days for everyone at Hunswick,suddenly observing Advent, but it might inspire the new residents to not just enjoy the fruits of everyone's labor,but appreciate and contribute. Turning around,Bronwyn pasted on what she hoped to be an incredulous look and said, "During Advent Fast?Now,my lord, you wouldn't want others to think you a heathen." Ranulf picked up the mug,sniffed the tea with disdain,and put it back down before flopping into one of the hearth chairs. "I know a hell of a lot more about the topic than you.And I could care less about the opinion of others." "I doubt that," Bronwyn murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, "on either point." Ranulf leaned forward and grabbed the plate of fish and potatoes. He took several bites and waved his fork around the platter. "The Church calls for their followers to celebrate the season of Advent the four weeks before Christmas, which is nonsense because I know of no one who rejoices in the idea of starvation and...abstinence." Bronwyn's heartbeat suddenly doubled its pace and she had to fight to remain looking relaxed and unaffected. "I believe humility is a large purpose behind the fast." "And control," Ranulf replied with a grunt. "If I kept such an absurd custom, I and my men would have starved many a year.
Michele Sinclair (The Christmas Knight)
Palermo is dotted everywhere with frittura shacks- street carts and storefronts specializing in fried foods of all shapes and cardiac impacts. On the fringes of the Ballarò market are bars serving pane e panelle, fried wedges of mashed chickpeas combined with potato fritters and stuffed into a roll the size of a catcher's mitt. This is how the vendors start their days; this is how you should start yours, too. If fried chickpea sandwiches don't register as breakfast food, consider an early evening at Friggitoria Chiluzzo, posted on a plastic stool with a pack of locals, knocking back beers with plates of fried artichokes and arancini, glorious balls of saffron-stained rice stuffed with ragù and fried golden- another delicious ode to Africa. Indeed, frying food is one of the favorite pastimes of the palermitani, and they do it- as all great frying should be done- with a mix of skill and reckless abandon. Ganci is among the city's most beloved oil baths, a sliver of a store offering more calories per square foot than anywhere I've ever eaten. You can smell the mischief a block before you hit the front door: pizza topped with french fries and fried eggplant, fried rice balls stuffed with ham and cubes of mozzarella, and a ghastly concoction called spiedino that involves a brick of béchamel and meat sauce coated in bread crumbs and fried until you could break someone's window with it.
Matt Goulding (Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy's Food Culture (Roads & Kingdoms Presents))
(1 = best, 11 = worst) 1. Raw fruits and vegetables (preferably organic) such as apples, grapes, melons, bananas, avocados, romaine lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, kale, tomatoes, etc.; raw honey, stevia (a natural sweetener) 2. Lightly-steamed, low-starch vegetables (all vegetables other than white potatoes, acorn and butternut squash, and pumpkin); pure maple syrup, agave nectar *Note that corn and legumes are starches, not vegetables. 3. Organic raw nuts and seeds (almonds, pine nuts, walnuts, macadamia nuts, sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, etc.) 4. Raw stone-pressed or cold-pressed plant oils (especially olive oil, though hemp seed and flax seed oils are also acceptable) 5. Cooked starchy vegetables (sweet potatoes, butternut and acorn squash, pumpkin, etc.) 6. Raw unpasteurized dairy products (particularly from goats and sheep) 7. Whole grains (brown rice, millet, whole wheat, buckwheat, etc.) 8. Pasteurized dairy and animal flesh (preferably limited to organic fish and minimal organic meat and poultry products) 9. All non-whole grain flour products (white bread, white rice, white pasta, white pizza dough, flour tortillas, etc.); sugar (white sugar, brown sugar, corn syrup, etc.) 10. Cooked animal fats/hydrogenated oils (lard, cooked oils, etc.), mainstream meats, poultry; soy products 11. Chemicals, artificial coloring and sweeteners (aspartame, saccharine, unnatural additives of all kinds)
Natalia Rose (The Raw Food Detox Diet: The Five-Step Plan for Vibrant Health and Maximum Weight Loss (Raw Food Series Book 1))
These truffles were a different thing altogether from the summer truffle he and Benedetta had found earlier in the year. Pale in color and as large as potatoes, they were both awesomely pungent and deeply intoxicating. Gusta and Benedetta threw them into every dish as casually as if they were throwing in parsley, and after a while Bruno did the same. He would never forget the first time they cooked a wild boar with celery and truffles: the dark, almost rank meat and the sulfuric reek of the tuber combined to form a taste that made him shiver. He was aware that Benedetta was deliberately cooking dishes designed to bind him to her. As well as the truffles, there was robiola del bec, a cheese made from the milk of a pregnant ewe, rich in pheromones. There were fiery little diavolilli, strong chile peppers that had been left to dry in the sun. Plates of fried funghi included morsels of Amanita, the ambrosia of the gods, said to be a natural narcotic. He didn't mind. He was doing the same to her: offering her unusual gelati flavored with saffron, the delicate pollen of the crocus flower; elaborate tarts of myrtle and chocolate; salads made with lichens and even acorns from her beloved woods. It was a game they played, based on their intimate appreciation of the taste of each other's bodies, so that the food and the sex became one harmonious whole, and it became impossible to say where eating ended and lovemaking began.
Anthony Capella (The Food of Love)
A private car was waiting for us and Renée and I were driven back to the Pleasure Prison. As we rode along I was thinking, “Why do I feel so inflated, so pumped up, so on edge? I have been here eight weeks and worked only eight days.” I mean, talk about mad dogs and Englishmen, the British were incredible. A sixty-year-old makeup man stood for hours each day in the burning sun, just to press ice packs on our necks so we wouldn’t faint, and I was complaining? I was feeling ravaged, all spoiled and puffed up. But, oh, how I was going to miss it. How I was going to miss it. Riding in the car, I said a silent farewell. Farewell to the fantastic breakfasts, the pineapple like I’d never tasted and probably never will taste again. Farewell to the fresh mango and papaya, farewell to the Thai maid and the fresh, clean, cotton sheets on the king-size bed every night. Farewell to the incredible free lunches under the circus tent with fresh meat flown in from America every day. Roast lamb, roast potatoes and green beans at 110 degrees, in accordance with British Equity. Farewell to the cakes and teas and ices at four. Farewell to the Thai driver with the tinted glasses and the Mercedes with the one-way windows. Farewell to the single fresh rose in the glass on my bureau every morning. And just as I was dozing off in the Pleasure Prison, I had a flash. An inkling. I suddenly thought I knew what it was that killed Marilyn Monroe.
Spalding Gray (Swimming to Cambodia)
Eastern Shore Breakfast Pudding Eggs, cheddar, ham or sausage, and bread baked together in the rich tradition of English savory puddings. This rib-sticking main course is equally delicious in a vegetarian rendition. 4 thick slices white bread, torn into quarters ¾ pound cooked ham, thinly sliced and chopped (or 1 pound sausage meat, cooked and drained) 1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated ½ medium onion, minced 1 sweet red pepper, diced 1 tablespoon olive oil 6 eggs 2 cups milk ¼ teaspoon salt Black and red pepper to taste Pinch of nutmeg Parsley to garnish Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a deep 8 x 8 inch baking dish. Lay bread in the dish, covering the bottom, and top with the ham or sausage and cheese. In a small pan, sauté the onion and red pepper in oil until fragrant and softened, about 5 minutes, and layer on top of the cheese. Whisk together the eggs and milk, salt, peppers, and nutmeg. Pour the mixture over the bread, meat, vegetables, and cheese. Bake for about one hour, until the pudding is puffed, firm, and golden brown. Tent with foil if necessary to prevent too much browning. Cut into four squares, garnish with parsley, and serve along with Old Bay potatoes (below), steamed asparagus, and broiled tomatoes. You shouldn’t see a hungry guest again until dinnertime. Note: For vegetarians, substitute for the meat a cup each of lightly steamed broccoli cut into small florets and thinly sliced, sautéed zucchini—both well drained. Serves 4.
Carol Eron Rizzoli (The House at Royal Oak: Starting Over & Rebuilding a Life One Room at a Time)
Foods to Embrace: Probiotics: Yogurt with active cultures, tempeh, miso, natto, sauerkraut, kefir, kimchi, kombucha, buttermilk, and certain cheeses. Prebiotics: Beans, oats, bananas, berries, garlic, onions, dandelion greens, asparagus, Jerusalem artichokes, and leeks. Low-GI carbohydrates: Brown rice, quinoa, steel-cut oatmeal, and chia seeds. Medium-GI foods, in moderation: Honey, orange juice, and whole-grain bread. Healthy fats: Monounsaturated fats like olive oil, nuts, nut butters, and avocados. Omega-3 fatty acids: Fish, especially fatty fish like salmon, mackerel, tuna, herring, and sardines. Vitamins B9, B12, B1, B6, A, and C. Minerals and micronutrients: Iron, magnesium, potassium, zinc, and selenium. Spices: Saffron and turmeric. Herbs: Oregano, lavender, passionflower, and chamomile. Foods to Avoid: Sugar: Baked goods, candy, soda, or anything sweetened with sugar or high-fructose corn syrup. High-GI carbs: White bread, white rice, potatoes, pasta, and anything else made from refined flour. Artificial sweeteners: Aspartame is particularly harmful, but also saccharin, sucralose, and stevia in moderation and with caution. Fried foods: French fries, fried chicken, fried seafood, or anything else deep-fried in oil. Bad fats: Trans fats such as margarine, shortening, and hydrogenated oils are to be avoided totally; omega-6 fats such as vegetable, corn, sunflower, and safflower oil should only be consumed in moderation. Nitrates: An additive used in bacon, salami, sausage, and other cured meats.
Uma Naidoo (This Is Your Brain on Food: An Indispensable Guide to the Surprising Foods that Fight Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, and More (An Indispensible ... Anxiety, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, and More))
The question revives Kropp, more particularly as he hears there’s no more beer in the canteen. “It’s not only Himmelstoss, there are lots of them. As sure as they get a stripe or a star they become different men, just as though they’d swallowed concrete.” “That’s the uniform,” I suggest. “Roughly speaking it is,” says Kat, and prepares for a long speech; “but the root of the matter lies somewhere. For instance, if you train a dog to eat potatoes and then afterwards put a piece of meat in front of him, he’ll snap at it, it’s his nature. And if you give a man a little bit of authority he behaves just the same way, he snaps at it too. The things are precisely the same. In himself man is essentially a beast, only he butters it over like a slice of bread with a little decorum. The army is based on that; one man must always have power over the other. The mischief is merely that each one has much too much power. A non-com. can torment a private, a lieutenant a non-com., a captain a lieutenant, until he goes mad. And because they know they can, they all soon acquire the habit more or less. Take a simple case: we are marching back from the parade-ground dog-tired. Then comes the order to sing. We sing spiritlessly, for it is all we can do to trudge along with our rifles. At once the company is turned about and has to do another hour’s drill as punishment. On the march back the order to sing is given again, and once more we start. Now what’s the use of all that? It’s simply that the company commander’s head has been turned by having so much power. And nobody blames him. On the contrary, he is praised for being strict. That, of course, is only a trifling instance, but it holds also in very different affairs. Now I ask you: Let a man be whatever you like in peacetime, what occupation is there in which he can behave like that without getting a crack on the nose? He can only do that in the army. It goes to the heads of them all, you see. And the more insignificant a man has been in civil life the worse it takes him.
Erich Maria Remarque (All Quiet on the Western Front)
This Compost" Something startles me where I thought I was safest, I withdraw from the still woods I loved, I will not go now on the pastures to walk, I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me. O how can it be that the ground itself does not sicken? How can you be alive you growths of spring? How can you furnish health you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain? Are they not continually putting distemper'd corpses within you? Is not every continent work'd over and over with sour dead? Where have you disposed of their carcasses? Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations? Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat? I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv'd, I will run a furrow with my plough, I will press my spade through the sod and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat. 2 Behold this compost! behold it well! Perhaps every mite has once form'd part of a sick person—yet behold! The grass of spring covers the prairies, The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden, The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward, The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches, The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves, The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree, The he-birds carol mornings and evenings while the she-birds sit on their nests, The young of poultry break through the hatch'd eggs, The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare, Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves, Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards, The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead. What chemistry! That the winds are really not infectious, That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which is so amorous after me, That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues, That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it, That all is clean forever and forever, That the cool drink from the well tastes so good, That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy, That the fruits of the apple-orchard and the orange-orchard, that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me, That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease, Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once a catching disease. Now I am terrified at the Earth, it is that calm and patient, It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions, It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas'd corpses, It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor, It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops, It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last.
Walt Whitman
The gospel isn't the dessert at the end of the meal. It's the salt that give distinctive flavor to the meat and potatoes. The gospel is what makes our teaching distinctively Christian. And Jesus is at the heat of the gospel. If we don't get back to Him, we miss out on the power of the Christian life.
Trevin K. Wax (Gospel-Centered Teaching: Showing Christ in All the Scripture)
Add salt, pepper, marjoram, garlic, water, and bouillon cubes, and bring to a boil, turn down heat, cover tightly and simmer till meat is nearly tender (1 1/2 to 2 hours) Add more water if necessary to keep stew from sticking. Add potatoes, carrots, and turnip (if used), simmering until everything is tender.   Dumplings 2 cups flour 4 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp salt 2 tbsp shortening or margarine 1 cup water or milk
Ted Summerfield (A Cookbook By Ted)
Breastfeeding mothers’ diet to escape allergies and colic. No babies in my closest family had allergies, gases or colic. I think that is to the result of a mother’s diet we recommend from generation to generation. We do not eat any gas-forming foods like broccoli or cabbage, and we avoid allergens like red fruits. I did, however, drink a lot of milk, which can cause gases. In addition, and contradicting advice on how to stay fit after birth, I ate tons of butter. It was an obsession during that time, for I do not usually consume dairy that much. It did not cause digestion problems for my baby, but it made my milk really thick. She got nice cheeks. I think my body knew more about needs of the baby than my brain. In general, I ate meat and neutral vegetables–no sweets, no soda, and not much shell fish. It may seem difficult to limit yourself to certain kinds of food, but it is not at all. Eat steaks with sweet potato, spring beans, or salad. It is tasty, balanced and quite habitual for many Americans. Sometimes mothers do have to give up some food preferences for several months to help their babies grow healthy and feel good. My cousin, a Korean girl, continued to eat spicy food during breastfeeding. It was not good for my newborn niece, who had an allergic reaction all over her face and body and was scratching herself badly. She had red spots all over.
Julia Shayk (Baby's First Year: 61 secrets of successful feeding, sleeping, and potty training: Parenting Tips)
Irradiation is used to inhibit the sprouting of tubers in potatoes; delay the ripening of some fruits and vegetables; control insects in fruits and stored grains; and reduce parasites in foods of animal origin as well as fresh and frozen red meats, including beef, lamb, and pork, to control disease-causing microorganisms.Δ
Ruby Parker Puckett (Foodservice Manual for Health Care Institutions (J-B AHA Press Book 150))
celeriac and sausage hash prep time: 15 minutes cooking time: 20 minutes yield: 4 servings Celeriac, or celery root, is a fascinating potato substitute and works especially well in breakfast dishes. A hash is a substantial way to start off your day, and you can make it even more substantial by topping each portion with a fried egg. ingredients 1 tablespoon coconut oil or ghee 2 cups celeriac, trimmed of roots, peeled, and cubed ½ pound breakfast sausage, crumbled (see here or store-bought) ¾ cup finely diced carrots ¼ cup minced yellow onion ¾ cup finely diced zucchini ½ cup chopped cremini mushrooms 1 teaspoon chopped fresh parsley 1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary ¼ teaspoon sea salt Cracked black pepper to taste method Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Place the celeriac in the skillet and cook for 5 minutes. Add the sausage, carrots, and onion. Continue cooking for 10 minutes, or until the meat is cooked through and the vegetables have softened. Add the remaining ingredients and cook for 6 to 8 minutes longer, or until the mushrooms and zucchini are tender.   tidbits: To trim and peel a celery root, first slice the bottom off so that there is a flat surface to place on a cutting board. Using a sharp knife, cut the peel and roots off in strips, from top to bottom. If the celeriac is somewhat smooth, a vegetable peeler will also work.  
Danielle Walker (Against All Grain: Delectable Paleo Recipes to Eat Well & Feel Great)
SIMPLE BOLOGNESE When we were kids, this was our favorite sauce, hands down. I used to love it on everything—pasta, rice, bread, potatoes, and polenta—you name it, I covered it in bolognese. We went through a lot of it in my household. So my parents had to figure out a way to make it that was quicker than the traditional recipe, and here it is. It’s just as rich and mouthwatering as the more time-consuming traditional recipe; I promise you won’t know the difference. Now that I’m all grown up, I try not to use bolognese for everything, but it’s tempting because it’s perfect as a sauce for any type of pasta shape. MAKES ABOUT 1 QUART; SERVES 4 OVER A POUND OF PASTA AS A MAIN COURSE ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil 1 medium onion, minced 2 garlic cloves, minced 1 celery stalk, minced 1 carrot, peeled and minced 1 pound ground beef chuck 1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes ¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 8 fresh basil leaves, chopped ½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste ¼ cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese In a Large Skillet, heat the oil over a medium flame. When almost smoking, add the onion and garlic and sauté until the onion is very tender, about 8 minutes. Add the celery and carrot and sauté for 5 minutes. Increase the heat to high, add the ground beef, and sauté until the meat is no longer pink, breaking up any large lumps, about 10 minutes. Add the tomatoes, parsley, basil, and ½ teaspoon each of salt and pepper, and cook over medium-low heat until the sauce thickens, about 30 minutes. Stir in the cheese, then season with more salt and pepper to taste. (The sauce can be made 1 day ahead. Cool, then cover and refrigerate. Rewarm over medium heat before using.)  
Giada De Laurentiis (Everyday Italian: 125 Simple and Delicious Recipes: A Cookbook)
Being yourself is the meat and potatoes of mothering, and if you are forever copying someone else's way you are apt to lose touch with your own truth.
Janet P. Penley (MotherStyles: Using Personality Type to Discover Your Parenting Strengths)
The official ration that was settled on for Soviet prisoners 539 and Ostarbeiter in December 1941 was clearly inadequate for men intended for hard labour. It consisted of a weekly allocation of 16.5 kilos of turnips, 2.6 kilos of 'bread' (made up of 65 per cent red rye, 25 per cent sugar beet waste and 10 per cent straw or leaves), 3 kilos of potatoes, 250 grams of horse-or other scrap meat, 130 grams of fat and 150 grams of Naehrmittel (yeast), 70 grams of sugar and two and a third litres of skimmed milk. The appalling quality of the bread caused serious damage to the digestive tract and resulted in chronic malnutrition. The vegetables had to be cooked for hours before they were palatable, robbing them of most of their nutritional content. Though this was a diet that was, relatively speaking, high in carbohydrates, providing a nominal daily total of 2,500 calories, it was grossly deficient in the fat and protein necessary to sustain hard physical labour.
Anonymous
crawfish. Nine guests were already gathered around, squeezing the highly seasoned meat out of the tails, sucking the juice out of the rest of the carcass and then going immediately for another, washing them down with beer and also eating the potatoes and corn on the cob that had been boiled along with the crawfish. It was one of the most ingrained communal rituals in New Orleans, everyone eating from the same horn of plenty, facing one another and talking, talking, talking as they ate, about music they had seen, city politics, the Saints game, which was still going inside, making jokes, making plans, making good-natured trouble.
Tom Piazza (City of Refuge: A Novel)
Father, who was a deeply religious Jew, without being fanatical, took his social responsibilities seriously. He belonged to the Jewish Community Board and was an unpaid member in charge of social aid. Since there were large numbers of poor Jews in town, his responsibility, by his own choice, was to see that nobody goes without Pessach kosher food - matza, meat, potatoes, eggs, sacramental wine. The same care was applied to see to it that Jews in hospitals, the insane asylum and prison were provided with kosher food for the holiday. By the time he had satisfied all these provisions, he came home to celebrate the seder.
Pearl Fichman (Before Memories Fade)
Cyrus is the meat and potatoes of my life, but Prudence was a cupcake I could enjoy just for the sheer sweetness of being with her.
Bette Lee Crosby (The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd (Wyattsville, #4))
he wrote that slaves ate meat only once a year and the rest of the time their only food was potatoes: “there is no nation which feeds it slaves as badly as the English.
Richard Ligon (A True and Exact History of the Island of Barbados (Hackett Classics))
Gil handed Henny one of the cushions and a one-pound coffee can from under the seat. Henny was very suspicious. “What’s this for?” he asked. “Why are you giving me this stuff?” “The cushion is for your sitter,” Gil said, “and the can is for the water.” “What water?” said Henny. He didn’t look too good. “Well, there’s bound to be a little extra water with the three of us sitting here,” said Gil. “And your friend hasn’t done much rowing. He splashes a bit over the side.” Henny glared at me. “Quit it,” he said. “Just quit splashing water into the boat.” I tried to be smooth. By the time we got out into the river, I was doing better. “Two steps forward, one step backward,” said Gil. “We aren’t making much progress against this current.” “I’ll go out a little farther,” I said. “Maybe the current won’t be so strong out there.” I felt very good about things. My rowing was getting better. We were closer to the bowl. The crew was busy and in high spirits. Gil was reading from The Journals of Lewis and Clark. Henny was searching his photographic memory for loose information. “Says here that one time, the expedition had nothing to eat but bear fat and candles,” said Gil. “Now that’s real interesting.” Henny sighed. “Sometimes they ate buffalo humps, and wolf meat, and a root called Wappato. Wappato is supposed to taste like potatoes. Boy, am I hungry. Did anybody bring a snack?” “There might be a few crackers under your seat,” said Gil. “Then again, there might not be.” “There is a box of Wheat Thins,” said Henny after he rummaged around under the seat. “It is soggy, dirty, crushed, and unfit for human consumption.” “I never eat them,” said Gil. “I feed them to the kingfishers. But if you’re really hungry, they’re better than candles.” Henny waved the box in the air. “Is anything going to go right on this trip?” he said. A sea gull swooped down and almost got the box. The crew was starting to feel the hardships. Desperation and hunger had set in. I figured the people from my island would look to the turtle for an answer to this situation, so I tried to do the same. The only thing I could come up with was that the armor on a turtle was much better protection than an old rowboat.
Brenda Z. Guiberson (Turtle People)
WEEK#1 SHOPPING LIST   *FRUITS & VEGETABLES ALL ORGANIC AND/OR WILD *MEATS FREE RANGE, NO ANTIBIOTICS OR HORMONES ADDED *FISH OCEAN WISE & WILD *Remember to always read the ingredients and check for added sugars, chemicals and MSG etc.   1 LEMON 2 LIMES 4 MEDIUM YELLOW ONIONS 1 BUNDLE ORGANIC GREEN ONIONS 1 RED ONION 1 GINGER ROOT 2 WHOLE GARLIC 1 BUNDLE OF ASPARGUS 2 CAULIFLOWER HEADS 2 ORGANIC RED PEPPERS 2 GREEN PEPPERS 3 AVOCADOS 1 PACK BOK CHOY 15 ORGANIC TOMATOES 1 SPAGHETTI SQUASH 3 SWEET POTATOES 1 YAM 2 BUNDLES OF ORGANIC BROCCOLI 6 ZUCCHINI 4 CARROTS 3 BEETS 12-15 BROWN MUSHROOMS 1 SMALL BAG/BOX ARUGULA SALAD 1 BUNDLE OF ROMAINE LETTUCE 1 BUNDLE FRESH BASIL   2 APPLES 1 BANANA 1 SMALL PACKAGE FRESH OR FROZEN WILD BLUEBERRIES 1 ORANGE   2 PACKAGES FREE RANGE NO ANTIOBIOTIC EGGS (24 TOTAL)   1 20oz (750Ml) TOMATO SAUCE 1 CAN 14OZ TOMATO PUREE 2 8oz (250mL) CANS COCONUT CREAM 2 16oz (500mL) CANS COCONUT MILK 1 12OZ CAN PUMPKIN PUREE   JAR OF OLIVES (no sugars added)   1 - ½ LB SMALL BAG (200G) OF REAL CRAB MEAT 2 – 2 LB BAGS (400G EACH) OF FROZEN WILD SHRIMP & SCALLOP MEDLEY 1 LARGE PIECE WILD SOCKEY SALMON (FRESH) 1 LB BEEF SIRLOIN 1LB GROUND BEEF 1 ½ LB (750G) NO-ANTIOBIOTIC CHICKEN SLICES 4 NO-ANTIOBIOTIC ALL NATURAL CHICKEN BREAST 7OZ (400G) ORGANIC GROUND TURKEY 1 PACKAGE MSG-FREE, NO NITRATE BACON   100G DRIED FRUIT (BLUEBERRIES, CRANBERRIES) 200G HAZELNUTS 100G ALMONDS 100G CASHEWS 100 WALNUTS 100G SESAME SEEDS 50G PUMPKIN SEEDS   1 BOTTLE NO SULFITE ORGANIC WHITE WINE (OPTIONAL)  
Paleo Wired (Practical 30 Day Paleo Program For Weight Loss - Paleo Diet: A BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO HEALTHY RECIPES FOR WEIGHT LOSS AND OPTIMAL HEALTH’(paleo diet, diet chllenge, paleo guide to weight loss))
My father and brothers did the best they could to keep us fed as the violence of the war escalated around us. They brought us potatoes, beans and sometimes apples. Packs of wild dogs, hungry and dangerous, roamed the streets at night. I guessed that sometimes the dogs became meat for our stew pot. We did not ask where food came from when Papa or one of my brothers brought home a chunk of meat. I didn’t allow myself to think of what I was eating or anticipate what the evening meal might be made of.
Samaa Habib (Face to Face with Jesus: A Former Muslim's Extraordinary Journey to Heaven and Encounter with the God of Love)
The Pasty was the time honored lunch of Cornish miners.  It was flaky pastry stuffed with a meat, potato, and vegetable, usually turnips.  Robert told me that Cornwall had been famous for Copper and Tin mining years ago.  The miners didn’t want to take the time to climb all the way out of the mines for lunch but needed a hot hearty meal.  So the women had come up with the Pasty.  In the old days besides the meat, potato, and vegetable, there had been some type of fruit put in at the end for desert.  The women would bring these to the miners fresh from the oven and lower them down.  They put different designs in the dough so the miners could identify their wife’s work and the markings were always put on the desert end so the men would know to eat it last. 
W.R. Spicer (Sea Stories of a U.S. Marine Book 3 ON HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE)
Studies of ileal digestibility show that we use cooked starch very efficiently. The percentage of cooked starch that has been digested by the time it reaches the end of the ileum is at least 95 percent in oats, wheat, potatoes, plantains, bananas, cornflakes, white bread, and the typical European or American diet (a mixture of starchy foods, dairy products, and meat). A few foods have lower digestibility: starch in home-cooked kidney beans and flaked barley has an ileal digestibility of only around 84 percent.
Richard W. Wrangham (Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human)
Mashed potatoes have a best friend in this savory meat. The gravy for both only takes a few minutes to prepare from the drippings. You’ll love the marriage! Yield: 6 servings 1 (4-pound) boneless chuck roast, trimmed and cut in half 1 large yellow onion, peeled and chopped 1 ⅓ cups plus 3 tablespoons water, divided 1 (10.5-ounce) can condensed French onion soup 1 cup firmly packed brown sugar ½ cup Worcestershire sauce ¼ cup cider vinegar 6 garlic cloves, peeled and minced ¼ teaspoon black pepper 3 tablespoons cornstarch Place the roast in a lightly greased large slow cooker and surround it with the onions. In a medium bowl whisk together 1 ⅓ cups of the water with the soup, brown sugar, Worcestershire, vinegar, garlic, and pepper. Pour over the roast, cover, and cook on low for 8 hours. Remove the meat and place on a large cutting board. Cover with aluminum foil to keep warm. Skim the fat from the cooking liquid and pour into a small saucepan over high heat. In a small bowl whisk together the remaining 3 tablespoons of water and cornstarch until smooth. When the cooking liquid comes to a boil, gradually whisk in the cornstarch mixture. Cook and stir constantly for 2 minutes or until thickened. Meanwhile, slice the meat and transfer to a serving platter. Serve the warm gravy with
Tammy Algood (The Southern Slow Cooker Bible: 365 Easy and Delicious Down-Home Recipes)
First of all, the carbohydrates restricted are sugar, refined flour, and starchy vegetables, not the green leafy vegetables, so there should still be significant fiber in the diet, although it’s not actually necessary. In fact, a likely scenario is that you’ll eat more green vegetables when you’re carb-restricting than not, because you’re likely to substitute more green leafy vegetables and salads for the starchy vegetables, pasta, and bread that you’re not eating. A restaurant meal might be a dish of meat, fish, or fowl with green vegetables or salad substituted for the potatoes (or rice or pasta or the hamburger bun).
Gary Taubes (Why We Get Fat: And What to Do About It)
1 cup milk plus: 1. Small bowl cold cereal + blueberries + yogurt 2. 1 egg, scrambled or boiled + 1 slice toast + strawberries 3. 1 cut-up chicken sausage + toast + ½ banana 4. ½ bagel + cream cheese + raspberries 5. 1 slice ham on toast + ½ orange 6. ½ tortilla rolled up with cheese + melon + yogurt 7. Small bowl oatmeal + cut-up bananas and strawberries Lunch and Dinner 1. 1 salmon cake + carrots + rice 2. Fish pie + broccoli 3. 3 oz salmon + cup of pasta + peas 4. 2 fish sticks + cup couscous + veg 5. ½ breast of chicken + veg + small potato 6. Roast chicken + dumplings + veg 7. 1 meat or peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich + apple + yogurt 8. 1 small homemade pizza + fruit 9. Pasta with tomato sauce and cheese + veg 10. Chicken risotto + veg 11. Ground beef + potato + peas 12. Small tuna pasta bake + veg 13. 4 meatballs + pasta + veg 14. Chicken stir-fry with veg + rice
Jo Frost (Jo Frost's Toddler Rules: Your 5-Step Guide to Shaping Proper Behavior)
In May 1943, meat rations had to be reduced again—a measure that caused considerable dismay because it gave the lie to Göring’s premature promise of the preceding October.88 In November 1943, when potatoes became scarce, Goebbels feared that Germany would have to use turnips as a “substitute food source,” which would surely awaken “an unpleasant memory” in the populace.89
Volker Ullrich (Hitler: Downfall: 1939-1945)
The law gave me an entirely new vocabulary, a language that non-lawyers derisively referred to as "legalese." Unlike the basic building blocks- the day-to-day words- that got me from the subway to the office and back, the words of my legal vocabulary, more often than not, triggered flavors that I had experienced after leaving Boiling Springs, flavors that I had chosen for myself, derived from foods that were never contained within the boxes and the cans of DeAnne's kitchen. Subpoenakiwifruit. InjunctionCamembert. Infringementlobster. Jurisdictionfreshgreenbeans. Appellantsourdoughbread. ArbitrationGuinness. Unconstitutionalasparagus. ExculpatoryNutella. I could go on and on, and I did. Every day I was paid an astonishing amount of money to shuffle these words around on paper and, better yet, to say them aloud. At my yearly reviews, the partners I worked for commented that they had never seen a young lawyer so visibly invigorated by her work. One of the many reasons I was on track to make partner, I thought. There were, of course, the rare and disconnecting exceptions. Some legal words reached back to the Dark Ages of my childhood and to the stunted diet that informed my earlier words. "Mitigating," for example, brought with it the unmistakable taste of elementary school cafeteria pizzas: rectangles of frozen dough topped with a ketchup-like sauce, the hard crumbled meat of some unidentifiable animal, and grated "cheese" that didn't melt when heated but instead retained the pattern of a badly crocheted coverlet. I had actually looked forward to the days when these rectangles were on the lunch menu, slapped onto my tray by the lunch ladies in hairnets and comfortable shoes. Those pizzas (even the word itself was pure exuberance with the two z's and the sound of satisfaction at the end... ah!) were evocative of some greater, more interesting locale, though how and where none of us at Boiling Springs Elementary circa 1975 were quite sure. We all knew what hamburgers and hot dogs were supposed to look and taste like, and we knew that the school cafeteria served us a second-rate version of these foods. Few of us students knew what a pizza was supposed to be. Kelly claimed that it was usually very big and round in shape, but both of these characteristics seemed highly improbable to me. By the time we were in middle school, a Pizza Inn had opened up along the feeder road to I-85. The Pizza Inn may or may not have been the first national chain of pizzerias to offer a weekly all-you-can-eat buffet. To the folks of the greater Boiling Springs-Shelby area, this was an idea that would expand their waistlines, if not their horizons. A Sizzler would later open next to the Pizza Inn (feeder road took on a new connotation), and it would offer the Holy Grail of all-you-can-eat buffets: steaks, baked potatoes, and, for the ladies, a salad bar complete with exotic fixings such as canned chickpeas and a tangle of slightly bruised alfalfa sprouts. Along with "mitigating," these were some of the other legal words that also transported me back in time: Egressredvelvetcake. PerpetuityFrenchsaladdressing. Compensatoryboiledpeanuts. ProbateReese'speanutbuttercup. FiduciaryCheerwine. AmortizationOreocookie.
Monique Truong (Bitter in the Mouth)
Lighten Up!, by Don Ladigin: A good “meat and potatoes” guide for traditional backpackers who want to lighten their load. Not as detailed as other guides, but sometimes too many details get in the way of the overall goal. It’s a good guide for the why of going lightweight rather than the specific what. Start with this book if you want to go from a 30-pound BPW to 15 pounds. Lightweight Backpacking and Camping, edited by Ryan Jordan: A detailed, gear-oriented workshop in book form. This book is aimed more toward high-end gear for lightening your load. But if you want diverse opinions from many different sources and wish to fine-tune your techniques, this book is a great guide. The editor is the publisher of backpackinglight.com. Pmags.com: My website offers my take on the basics of backpacking and going light. Articles include: “Beginners Backpacking Primer,” “Lightweight Backpacking 101,” and “My Evolving Gear List.
Colorado Trail Foundation (The Colorado Trail)
The main protagonist in the Christmas menu is the meat, which is either roast pork or duck—often both. It will be accompanied by boiled potatoes, or caramelized potatoes, stewed sweet-and-sour red cabbage, gravy, and pickled gherkins. Some have cream-stewed cabbage, sausages, and various types of bread, too. To complete the feast, we have a truly Danish invention: risalamande (it comes from the French ris à l’amande, and this makes it sound fancier) is half part-whipped cream, half part-boiled rice, with finely chopped almonds and topped with hot cherry sauce. Eating risalamande is not just a delicious experience, though. It is very much social. Because hidden in the big bowl of dessert is one whole almond.
Meik Wiking (The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living)
In 1977, when McGovern’s committee held a hearing on obesity, Oklahoma Senator Henry Bellmon captured this dilemma perfectly. The committee had spent the day listening to leading authorities discuss the cause and prevention of obesity, and the experience had left Bellmon confused. “I want to be sure we don’t oversimplify…,” Bellmon said. “We make it sound like there is no problem for those of us who are overweight except to push back from the table sooner. But I watched Senator [Robert] Dole in the Senate dining room, a double dip of ice cream, a piece of blueberry pie, meat and potatoes, yet he stays as lean as a west Kansas coyote. Some of the rest of us who live on lettuce, cottage cheese and Ry-Krisp don’t do nearly as well. Is there a difference in individuals as to how they
Gary Taubes (Good Calories, Bad Calories: Challenging the Conventional Wisdom on Diet, Weight Control, and Disease)
EASY FIRST FINGER FOODS FOR BABIES • steamed (or lightly boiled) whole vegetables, such as green beans, baby corn, and sugar-snap peas • steamed (or lightly boiled) florets of cauliflower and broccoli • steamed, roasted or stir-fried vegetable sticks, such as carrot, potato, egg plant, sweet potato, parsnip, pumpkin, and zucchini • raw sticks of cucumber (tip: keep some of these ready prepared in the fridge for babies who are teething—the coolness is soothing for their gums) • thick slices of avocado (not too ripe or it will be very squishy) • chicken (as a strip of meat or on a leg bone)—warm (i.e., freshly cooked) or cold • thin strips of beef, lamb or pork—warm (i.e., freshly cooked) or cold • fruit, such as pear, apple, banana, peach, nectarine, mango—either whole or as sticks • sticks of firm cheese, such as cheddar or Gloucester •breadsticks • rice cakes or toast “fingers”—on their own or with a homemade spread, such as hummus and tomato, or cottage cheese And, if you want to be a bit more adventurous, try making your own versions of: • meatballs or mini-burgers • lamb or chicken nuggets • fishcakes or fish fingers • falafels • lentil patties • rice balls (made with sushi rice, or basmati rice with dhal) Remember, you don’t need to use recipes specifically designed for babies, provided you’re careful to keep salt and sugar to a minimum.
Gill Rapley (Baby-Led Weaning: The Essential Guide to Introducing Solid Foods and Helping Your Baby to Grow Up a Happy and Confident Eater)
The waiter slapped down my pavé au poivre. It was not a particularly impressive plate- a hunk of meat, fat fried potatoes piled carelessly to one side. But something happened as I sliced the first bite- no resistance, none at all. The knife slid through the meat; the thinnest layer of crusty brown opening to reveal a pulpy red heart. I watched as the pink juices puddled into the buttery pepper sauce. Gwendal looked up. I must have uttered an audible gasp of pleasure. "I don't know why you can't get a steak like this in England," I said, careful, even in my haste to lift the first bite to my mouth, not to drip on my sweater. "Since mad cow, I think it's illegal." My fork and knife paused in midair as I let the salt, the fat, the blood settle on my tongue.
Elizabeth Bard (Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes)
We'll make German potato salad," the grim-faced cook was saying to the housekeeper, who took notes. "We'll serve it with cuts of beef, ham, tongue, and galantine of veal. On the side, relish trays with caviar, radishes, olives, and celery on ice-
Lisa Kleypas (Chasing Cassandra (The Ravenels, #6))
Swanson opened his can and sighed. Meat and potato hash. “Anybody want to trade?” He had no takers, so he spooned the gunk into his pot.
Craig DiLouie (ARMOR #2, The Fight for Sicily: a Novel of Tank Warfare)