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She would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have
cleft his club to make the fire too.
She would have made Hercules have turned spit, yea, and have
cleft his club to make the fire too.
Great pity were it if this beneficence of Providence should be
marr'd in the ordering, so as to justly read more
Great pity were it if this beneficence of Providence should be
marr'd in the ordering, so as to justly merit the Reflection of
the old proverb, that though God sends us meat, yet the D------
does cooks.
If your slave commits a fault, do not smash his teeth with your
fists; give him some of the read more
If your slave commits a fault, do not smash his teeth with your
fists; give him some of the (hard) biscuit which famous Rhodes
has sent you.
Her that ruled the rost in the kitchen.
Her that ruled the rost in the kitchen.
Ever a glutton, at another's cost,
But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
Ever a glutton, at another's cost,
But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.
He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the
grinding.
Have I not tarried?
read more
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.
Cookery is become an art, a noble science; cooks are gentlemen.
Cookery is become an art, a noble science; cooks are gentlemen.
Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs,
When season'd with love, which no rancour disturbs
read more
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.
