A Potato Is A Poor Thing, Poorly

The Things Men Come To Eat When They Are Alone Are, I Suppose, Not Much Stranger Than The Men Themselves.... A Writer Years Ago Told Me Of Living For Five Months On Hen Mash.

It Is Easy To Think Of Potatoes, And Fortunately For Men Who Have Not Much Money It Is Easy To Think Of Them With A Certain Safety. Potatoes Are One Of The Last Things To Disappear, In Times Of War, Which Is Probably Why They Should Not Be Forgotten In Times Of Peace.

It Was There [dijon], I Now Understand, That I Started To Grow Up, To Study, To Make Love, To Eat And Drink, To Be Me And Not What I Was Expected To Be. It Was There That I Learned It Is Blessed To Receive, As Well As That Every Human Being, No Matter How Base, Is Worthy Of My Respect And Even My Envy Because He Knows Something That I May Never Be Old Or Wise Or Kind Or Tender Enough To Know.

Hunger Is More Than A Problem Of Belly And Guts, And ... The Satisfying Of It Can And Must And Does Nourish The Spirit As Well As The Body.

The Smell Of Good Bread Baking, Like The Sound Of Lightly Flowing Water, Is Indescribable In Its Evocation Of Innocence And Delight