#food

Once someone tries a real extra virgin -- an adult or a child, anybody with taste buds -- they'll never go back to the fake kind. It's distinctive, complex, the freshest thing you've ever eaten. It makes you realize how rotten the other stuff is, literally rotten. But there has to be a first time. Somehow we have to get those first drops of real extra virgin oil into their mouths, to break them free from the habituation to bad oil, and from the brainwashing of advertising. There has to be some good oil left in the world for people to taste. ↗

— Tom Mueller

#food #media #olive-oil #food

Even feigning surprise, pretending it was unexpected and saying a ritual thanks, is surely wiser than just expecting everything so carelessly. ↗

— Barbara Kingsolver

#food #food

It is the deep, salty stickiness of food that intrigues me more than any other quality. ↗

— Nigel Slater

#taste #food

What fiendishness went on in kitchens across the country, in the name of providing food! ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#food

Almonds. Apricots. Avocadoes. Some peaches I don't know. Grapefruit. Lemones. Probably oranges. ↗

— Jane Smiley

#food

But surely liking the same things for dinner is one of the deepest and most lasting things you could possibly have in common with anyone,' argued Dr. Parnell. 'After all, the emotions of the heart are very transitory, or so I believe; I should think it makes one much happier to be well-fed than well-loved. ↗

— Barbara Pym

#food

If the ego is not regularly and repeatedly dissolved in the unbounded hyperspace of the Transcendent Other, there will always be slow drift away from the sense of self as part of nature’s larger whole. The ultimate consequence of this drift is the fatal ennui that now permeates Western Civilization. ↗

— Terence McKenna

#self #western-civilization #food

Only by emptying ourselves out before God will we find fullness within ourselves. ↗

— Mary DeTurris Poust

#food #fulfillment #god #faith

From "Lunchtime At The Justice Cafe" : The waitress snarled a grin that lasted just long enough to show a mouthful of stained yellowed teeth, then turned suddenly serious. “‘Course I’m not the one to talk about these folks, I ‘spose. You see, I used to do a bit of eavesdroppin’ in my day before the sheriff put a stop to that.” 

She lifted the stringy blond hair from the side of her face, the opposite side from where she had hidden her pencil. There was a small hole about the size of a quarter where her ear should have been. “As you can see, Mr. McAllister, Sheriff Sweet puts a fairly high price on mindin’ your own business in Justice,” she added, refilling his cup. “You want some pie?” 


— Ken Goldman

#fried-food #goldman #horror #business

Moments later a huge male with a cropped mohawk came out. Rehvenge was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit and had a black cane in his right hand. As he came slowly over to the Brotherhood's table, his patrons parted before him, partly out of respect for his size, partly out of fear from his reputation. Everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of: Rehv was the kind of drug lord who took a personal interest in his livelihood. You crossed him and you turned up diced like something off the Food Channel. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#black-dagger-brotherhood #j-r-ward #lover-unbound #rehvenge #food