What? Sunday morning in an English family and no sausages? God bless my soul, what's the world coming to, eh?
I have never regretted Paradise Lost since I discovered that it contained no eggs-and-bacon.
Unlike music or poetry or painting, food rouses no response in passionate and emotional youth. Only when the surge of the blood is quieted does gastronomy come into its own with philosophy and theology and the sterner delights of the mind.
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