Food in novels, food quotes, food and literature

“It was wintertime. I was starving to death trying to be a writer in New York. I hadn't eaten for three or four days. So, I finally said, "I'm gonna have a big bag of popcorn." And God, I hadn't tasted food for so long, it was so good. Each kernel, you know, each one was like a steak! I chewed and it would just drop into my poor stomach. My stomach would say, "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!" I was in heaven, just walking along, and two guys happened by, and one said to the other, "Jesus Christ!" The other one said, "What was it?" "Did you see that guy eating popcorn? God, it was awful!" And so I couldn't enjoy the rest of the popcorn. I thought; what do you mean, "it was awful?" I'm in heaven here. I guess I was kinda dirty. They can always tell a fucked-up guy.”
― Charles Bukowski

I've not read them, might like them since some serious readers here seem to enjoy his books.

I finished the John Lescroart book yesterday (still liked it) and he mentioned food in passing a few more times, and also had his story protagonist dreaming of opening a restaurant if he ever managed to retire. These mentions didn't take up a lot of page space relative to the whole thing, very little, but I've caught on that he uses food as part of his descriptions in most of those books of his I've read.

Maybe writers get hungry in their dens as they are penning notes or typing away.

Lewis Carroll

Beautiful Soup

BEAUTIFUL Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!

Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two
Pennyworth only of Beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo-oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!

“Parsley is gharsley.”
― Ogden Nash, Food

Eb, you are keeping this going and advancing. I love it.

I will be slower to add. Will be looking around at my remaining bookshelf.
G'helpus if I hit the large containers.

It's nice to have a topic without any screaming in it.

Gracias.

Let's keep it going, slow or fast.

I findly found the first european writer I used to read, re procedurals.
and he did used to mention food, if I remember.

http://www.amazon.com/Hard-Rain-Gripstra-Gier-Novel-ebook/dp/B003X27HEE/ref=sr_1_sc_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1419482183&sr=8-2-spell&keywords=jan+van+weeterling

“Before a Cat will condescend
To treat you as a trusted friend,
Some little token of esteem
Is needed, like a dish of cream;
And you might now and then supply
Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie,
Some potted grouse, or salmon paste —
He's sure to have his personal taste.
(I know a Cat, who makes a habit
Of eating nothing else but rabbit,
And when he's finished, licks his paws
So's not to waste the onion sauce.)
A Cat's entitled to expect
These evidences of respect.
And so in time you reach your aim,
And finally call him by his name.”
― T.S. Eliot, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats

“The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.”
― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

I'm loving your contributions, EB.

“Red onions are especially divine. I hold a slice up to the sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window, and it glows like a fine piece of antique glass. Cool watery-white with layers delicately edged with imperial purple...strong, humble, peaceful...with that fiery nub of spring green in the center...”
― Mary Hayes-Grieco, The Kitchen Mystic: Spiritual Lessons Hidden in Everyday Life

“We ate the lunch with painful politeness and avoided discussing its taste. I made sure not to apologize for it. This was a rule of mine.
I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make...
Usually one's cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is vile,...then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile- and learn from her mistakes.”
― Julia Child, My Life in France

Henry Miller

"Sunday! Left the Villa Borghese a little before noon, just

as Boris was getting ready to sit down to lunch. I left out of

a sense of delicacy, because it really pains Boris to see me

sitting there in the studio with an empty belly. Why he

doesn�t invite me to lunch with him I don�t know." (Cancer 37)


"The mere thought of a meal, rejuvenates me. A meal! That

means something to go on- - a few solid hours of work, an

erection possibly. I don�t deny it. I have health, good solid

animal health. The only thing that stands between me and

a future is a meal, another meal." (Cancer 49)


"Going for the liquor I am already intoxicated�Everything

is loose and splashy�I have a bottle between my legs and I�m

shoving the corkscrew in�The wine is splashing between my

legs, the sun is splashing through the bay window, and inside

my veins there is a bubble and splash of a thousand crazy things

that commence (Cancer 14)

“Growing up spoiled a lot of things. It spoiled the nice game they had when there was nothing to eat in the house. When money gave out and food ran low, Katie and the children pretended they were explorers discovering the North Pole and had been trapped by a blizzard in a cave with just a little food. They had to make it last till help came. Mama divided up what food there was in the cupboard and called it rations and when the children were still hungry after a meal, she'd say, 'Courage, my men, help will come soon.' When some money came in and Mama bought a lot of groceries, she bought a little cake as celebration, and she'd stick a penny flag in it and say, 'We made it, men. We got to the North Pole.'
One day after one of the 'rescues' Francie asked Mama:
'When explorers get hungry and suffer like that, it's for a reason . Something big comes out of it. They discover the North Pole. But what big things comes out of us being hungry like that?'
Katie looked tired all of a sudden. She said something Francie didn't understand at the time. She said, 'You found the catch in it.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

"Please, sir, i want some more."

-- Oliver Twist

I just ran across, on a relative unrelated thread, a post by Plainoldme with much info.

http://able2know.org/topic/1042-356#post-5812668

I'm going to edit the air spaces..

From POM - and there were others posting after her -
'This is a good place to post a list of "food" books that I found. I lost one in translation. Not all come to mind when thinking about food fiction but it is interesting.

the Epicure’s Lament, Kate Christensen
The Dinner, Herman Koch
Pow!, Mo Yan
The Book of Salt, Monique Truong
The Debt to Pleasure, John Lanchester
Ulysses, James Joyce
Cinnamon and Gunpowder, Eli Brown
John Saturnall’s Feast, Lawrence Norfolk
Redwall, Brian Jacques
The Belly of Paris, Emile Zola
Chocolat, Joanne Harris
The Flounder, Günter Grass
Gargantua and Pantagruel, François Rabelais
My Year of Meats, Ruth Ozeki
The Devil’s Larder, Jim Crace
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café, Fannie Flagg
Farmer Boy, Laura Ingalls Wilder
Heartburn, Nora Ephron
Cooking With Fernet Branca, James Hamilton-Paterson
The Edible Woman, Margaret Atwood
Kitchen, Banana Yoshimoto
Edible Stories, Mark Kurlansky
The Hundred-Foot Journey, Richard C. Morais
Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
Like Water for Chocolate, Laura Esquivel
The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen
The Food of Love, Anthony Capella
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
Babette’s Feast, Isak Dinesen
White Truffles in Winter, N.M. Kelby
Remembrance of Things Past, Marcel Proust
Saturday, Ian McEwan
Gourmet Rhapsody, Muriel Barbery
The Last Chinese Chef, Nicole Mones
La Cucina, Lily Prior
The Food Chain, Geoff Nicholson
Bone in the Throat, Anthony Bourdain
The Cookbook Collector, Allegra Goodman
The Lives of Notorious Cooks, Brendan Connell
The School of Essential Ingredients, Erica Bauermeister
Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
Goodbye, Columbus, Philip Roth
The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien
A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
Pomegranate Soup, Marsha Mehran
Appetite, Philip Kazan
The Chef’s Apprentice, Elle Newmark
Crescent, Diana Abu-Jaber
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling
Hunger, Jane Ward

Being solipsistic, I'm interested in what I read and do like, writing that engages, not much lists, but this is still useful. POM probably has the same take.

I like individual stuff, including throwaway lines.

“When I am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles me. Indeed, as any one who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink. At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

I would guess that more novels than not at least mention food. I try to get the ones that take more than a passing interest. I quoted Ulysses and Grapes of Wrath, earlier. The quotes I provided are the tip of the iceberg with those two. Food becomes the primal thing in the final chapter of Grapes and earlier there is the episode of Grandpa wanting spare ribs, for instance. In Ulysses, Bloom goes into a restaurant for lunch, but is repelled by the people and atmosphere of the place. Henry Miller wrote a great deal more about food. Juicy porterhouse steaks, for instance. And digging in a garbage can or two, in Paris, in Tropic of Cancer.