Every investigation which is guided by principles of nature fixes
its ultimate aim entirely on gratifying the stomach.

Every investigation which is guided by principles of nature fixes
its ultimate aim entirely on gratifying the stomach.

He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the
grinding.
Have I not tarried?
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He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the
grinding.
Have I not tarried?
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Have I not tarried?
Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Still have I tarried.
Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word 'hereafter' the
kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and
the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance
to burn your lips.

And nearer as they came, a genial savour
Of certain stews, and roast-meats, and pilaus.
Things which read more

And nearer as they came, a genial savour
Of certain stews, and roast-meats, and pilaus.
Things which in hungry mortals' eyes find favour.

A cook should double one sense have: for he
Should taster for himself and master be.

A cook should double one sense have: for he
Should taster for himself and master be.

Digestion, much like Love and Wine, no trifling will brook:
His cook once spoiled the dinner of an Emperor read more

Digestion, much like Love and Wine, no trifling will brook:
His cook once spoiled the dinner of an Emperor of men;
The dinner spoiled the temper of his Majesty and then
The Emperor made history--and no one blamed the cook.

Hallo! A great deal of steam! the pudding was out of the
copper. A smell like a washing-day! That read more

Hallo! A great deal of steam! the pudding was out of the
copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A
smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook's next door to each
other, with a laundress's next door to that. That was the
pudding.

I never strove to rule the roast,
She ne'er refus'd to pledge my toast.

I never strove to rule the roast,
She ne'er refus'd to pledge my toast.

Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs,
When season'd with love, which no rancour disturbs
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Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs,
When season'd with love, which no rancour disturbs
And sweeten'd by all that is sweetest in life
Than turbot, bisque, ortolans, eaten in strife!
But if, out of humour, and hungry, alone
A man should sit down to dinner, each one
Of the dishes which the cook chooses to spoil
With a horrible mixture of garlic and oil,
The chances are ten against one, I must own,
He gets up as ill-tempered as when he sat down.

Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.

Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods,
Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds.