I don't put cream in any pasta noodles ever. I would use a little butter, but I don't ever use cream.
I prefer men to cauliflowers
Had I accepted the pickle juice, I would be drinking pickle juice right now.
No sausage?" he asked. Apparently my pork consumption habits were a matter of public record.
An actress without talent, forty years old, ate a partridge for dinner, and I felt sorry for the partridge, for it occurred to me that in its life it had been more talented, more sensible, and more honest than the actress.
My man, Gerard, prefers meat over bone. That takes the pressure off. I already have a lot to worry about.
I'm a huge fan of burgers, and they're not my wife's favorite, so we don't cook them at home.
Each worm to his taste; some prefer to eat nettles.
Q: How would you like your eggs in the morning? A: Unfertilized
Greetings, ax murderer! I was just wondering how you like your eggs?
Blake took a small roll from the tray on the table, then put it back in favor of a larger one. And maybe a little butter. It certainly couldn't hurt. And jam...no, he drew the line at jam. She was a spy, after all.
Would you put a pastrami in your mouth if you didn't want to eat it?
Perhaps you see, therefore, why I think taste must come before nutrition? Our infatuation for the quasi-scientific has left us easy marks for con men and tin fiddle manufacturers.
I'm a really picky eater.
It's really important for your health, because you will never use as much salt and fat and sugar as a corporation will use cooking for you.
Women alone always order sole. It means something.
If you don't like tomato soup, you don't buy tomato soup.
It is not a matter of indifference whether we like oysters or clams, snails or shrimp, if only we know how to unravel the existential significance of these foods.
Taste is the only morality. Tell me what you like and I'll tell you what you are.
What's for dinner is the only question many husbands ask their wives, and the only one to which they care about the answer.
We didn't starve but nobody ate chicken unless we were sick or the chicken was.
I thought about making biscuits, but there seemed to be more than enough calories on board.
Many eat that on earth that they digest in hell.
The real question is should we trust people who don't like cheese?
Yeah," I said, "but you're an artist. You don't believe in decency and honesty and gratitude. Where shall we eat?
