The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die. It did not satisfy desire, and at times Sam's mind was filled with the memories of food, and the longing for simple bread and meats. And yet this waybread of the Elves had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
15 July 2024
31 December 2022
Introduction from Delia Smith's Christmas (Delia Smith)
If there's one person in the world who probably needs this book more than anyone else, it's me. For years my own Christmas preparations have been, to say the least, fragmented and fraught: recipes here, notes there, and fading memories of what I might have done last year if only I could be sure! What I needed, it seemed to me, was a sort of personal Christmas organiser, something I could reach for in October and keep by me as a guide all the way through to the point where the last of the Christmas leftovers have been dealt with.
Then I began to think: if that's what I need, how many other people might need the same? It would be nice of course to be able to say at this point that the contents of this book can zip you through all that Christmas catering without a worry or a care. Unfortunately that is not the case, because unless you are superhuman, believe me, there will still be some hectic days ahead of you. But what I have set out to do here is to be a sort of friend in the background, providing practical information, offering new and different recipes (as well as the more traditional ones), and if not entirely removing the pressure of Christmas cooking then going some way to ensuring its success.
Christmas has its critics and, if we were honest, I'm sure each one of us has, at some time, wished we could quietly quit the planet and come back when it was over. On the other hand, at what other time of the year can we turn our minds to the sheer joy of feasting? The sharing of fine food and wines with family and friends is a deeply ingrained human (as well as religious) activity, without which our lives would surely be diminished.
As a veteran of many a Christmas campaign, my final message to you is not to worry. You will be pressured, you will get grumpy, but it will all be worth it. Just set your mind on that glorious moment on Christmas Day when the last of the washing-up has been done. By then you will probably have enough food in the house to last for several days, so fill your glass, put your feet up and forget all about it for another year!
31 December 2020
from Grimble, chapter 1, Monday (Clement Freud)
At school he got lunch; that was the orderly part of his life. Shepherd's pie or sausages and mashed potatoes on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday; and on Fridays, fish fingers. This was followed by chocolate spodge – which is a mixture between chocolate sponge and chocolate sludge, and does not taste of anything very much except custard – which the school cook poured over everything.
18 November 2020
from a letter to Cassandra Austen, 8-9 September 1816 (Jane Austen)
How good Mrs West could have written such books and collected so many hard works, with all her family cares, is still more a matter of astonishment! Composition seems to me impossible with a head full of joints of mutton and doses of rhubarb.
05 August 2020
from The Long Winter, chapter 30, It Can't Beat Us
Winter had lasted so long that it seemed it would never end. It seemed that they would never really wake up.
In the morning Laura got out of bed into the cold. She dressed downstairs by the fire that Pa had kindled before he went to the stable. They ate their coarse brown bread. Then all day long she and Ma and Mary ground wheat and twisted hay as fast as they could. The fire must not go out; it was very cold. They ate some coarse brown bread. Then Laura crawled into the cold bed and shivered until she grew warm enough to sleep.
Next morning she got out of bed into the cold. She dressed in the chilly kitchen by the fire. She ate her coarse brown bread. She took her turns at grinding wheat and twisting hay. But she did not ever feel awake. She felt beaten by the cold and the storms.
She knew she was dull and stupid but she could not wake up.
There were no more lessons. There was nothing in the world but cold and dark and work and coarse brown bread and winds blowing. The storm was always there, outside the walls, waiting sometimes, then pouncing, shaking the house, roaring, snarling, and screaming in rage.
Out of bed in the morning to hurry down and dress by the fire. Then work all day to crawl into a cold bed at night and fall asleep as soon as she grew warm. The winter had lasted so long. It would never end.
In the morning Laura got out of bed into the cold. She dressed downstairs by the fire that Pa had kindled before he went to the stable. They ate their coarse brown bread. Then all day long she and Ma and Mary ground wheat and twisted hay as fast as they could. The fire must not go out; it was very cold. They ate some coarse brown bread. Then Laura crawled into the cold bed and shivered until she grew warm enough to sleep.
Next morning she got out of bed into the cold. She dressed in the chilly kitchen by the fire. She ate her coarse brown bread. She took her turns at grinding wheat and twisting hay. But she did not ever feel awake. She felt beaten by the cold and the storms.
She knew she was dull and stupid but she could not wake up.
There were no more lessons. There was nothing in the world but cold and dark and work and coarse brown bread and winds blowing. The storm was always there, outside the walls, waiting sometimes, then pouncing, shaking the house, roaring, snarling, and screaming in rage.
Out of bed in the morning to hurry down and dress by the fire. Then work all day to crawl into a cold bed at night and fall asleep as soon as she grew warm. The winter had lasted so long. It would never end.
from Peter Duck, chapter XVI, The Madeiras at Dusk (Arthur Ransome)
There was always something to see. And, besides, there was always something to do. Susan and Peggy were busy from morning to night with their cooking and housekeeping. 'Shipkeeping, it ought to be called,' as Roger pointed out one day when Susan said she was too busy housekeeping to knit a stocking cap for Gibber. Gibber, by the way, got his stocking cap all right, but it was knitted by Peter Duck when he had finished darning his socks. He knitted it from blue wool, on the pattern of his own, and Susan, when she saw it, let shipkeeping go hang while she made a red woollen tassel to go on the top of it.
Every day the main water tank had to be filled up from the small screw-top tanks that were stored under the flooring down below. In this way Susan was able to keep count of exactly how much water they were using. She never had been very good at sums, and neither had Peggy, but long before the end of that voyage nobody could have found fault with their additions and subtractions and divisions. They were calculating all the time, and often Susan would wake up in the early morning thinking that one of the sums had gone wrong, and then she would sit up in her bunk and work it out again, and tell Titty about it, and Titty, in the bunk below, would also have a go with pencil and paper, trying to help. Inside the deckhouse door there was a card, and every time one of those tins from down below was emptied into the main tank, Susan used to tick it off on this card, so that Captain Flint, too, was able to keep an eye on the way the water was going. They were very careful about the water, doing most of their washing in salt water, using special salt-water soap. It did not make much of a lather, and it left them feeling rather sticky, but anything was better than running short of drinking water. And in the end, Captain Flint said that it was all due to Susan that things went off so well. If she had not been so careful with the water they could never have done what they did.
Every day the main water tank had to be filled up from the small screw-top tanks that were stored under the flooring down below. In this way Susan was able to keep count of exactly how much water they were using. She never had been very good at sums, and neither had Peggy, but long before the end of that voyage nobody could have found fault with their additions and subtractions and divisions. They were calculating all the time, and often Susan would wake up in the early morning thinking that one of the sums had gone wrong, and then she would sit up in her bunk and work it out again, and tell Titty about it, and Titty, in the bunk below, would also have a go with pencil and paper, trying to help. Inside the deckhouse door there was a card, and every time one of those tins from down below was emptied into the main tank, Susan used to tick it off on this card, so that Captain Flint, too, was able to keep an eye on the way the water was going. They were very careful about the water, doing most of their washing in salt water, using special salt-water soap. It did not make much of a lather, and it left them feeling rather sticky, but anything was better than running short of drinking water. And in the end, Captain Flint said that it was all due to Susan that things went off so well. If she had not been so careful with the water they could never have done what they did.
09 September 2019
from Three Men in a Boat, chapter II (Jerome K. Jerome)
Harris said:
'How about when it rained?'
You can never rouse Harris. There is no poetry about Harris—no wild yearning for the unattainable. Harris never 'weeps, he knows not why.' If Harris’s eyes fill with tears, you can bet it is because Harris has been eating raw onions, or has put too much Worcester over his chop.
'How about when it rained?'
You can never rouse Harris. There is no poetry about Harris—no wild yearning for the unattainable. Harris never 'weeps, he knows not why.' If Harris’s eyes fill with tears, you can bet it is because Harris has been eating raw onions, or has put too much Worcester over his chop.
18 September 2018
Cookies (Arnold Lobel)
Toad baked some cookies.
“These cookies smell very good,”
said Toad.
He ate one.
“And they taste even better,” he said.
Toad ran to Frog’s house.
“Frog, Frog,” cried Toad,
“taste these cookies
that I have made.”
Frog ate one of the cookies.
“These are the best cookies
I have ever eaten!” said Frog.
Frog and Toad ate many cookies,
one after another.
“You know, Toad,” said Frog,
with his mouth full,
“I think we should stop eating.
We will soon be sick.”
“You are right,” said Toad.
“Let us eat one last cookie,
and then we will stop.”
Frog and Toad ate
one last cookie.
There were many cookies
left in the bowl.
“Frog,” said Toad,
“let us eat one very last cookie,
and then we will stop.”
Frog and Toad
ate one very last cookie.
“We must stop eating!” cried Toad
as he ate another.
“Yes,” said Frog,
reaching for a cookie,
“we need will power.”
“What is will power?” asked Toad.
“Will power is trying hard
not to do something
that you really want to do,”
said Frog.
“You mean like trying hard not
to eat all of these cookies?”
asked Toad.
“Right,” said Frog.
Frog put the cookies in a box.
“There,” he said.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can open the box,”
said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog tied some string
around the box.
“There,” he said.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can cut the string
and open the box,” said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog got a ladder.
He put the box up on a high shelf.
“There,” said Frog.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can climb the ladder
and take the box
down from the shelf
and cut the string
and open the box,”
said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog climbed the ladder
and took the box
down from the shelf.
He cut the string
and opened the box.
Frog took the box outside.
He shouted in a loud voice.
“HEY BIRDS,
HERE ARE COOKIES!”
Birds came from everywhere.
They picked up all the cookies
in their beaks and flew away.
“Now we have no more cookies to eat,”
said Toad sadly.
“Not even one.”
“Yes,” said Frog,
“but we have lots and lots
of will power.”
“You may keep it all, Frog,”
said Toad.
“I am going home now
to bake a cake.”
“These cookies smell very good,”
said Toad.
He ate one.
“And they taste even better,” he said.
Toad ran to Frog’s house.
“Frog, Frog,” cried Toad,
“taste these cookies
that I have made.”
Frog ate one of the cookies.
“These are the best cookies
I have ever eaten!” said Frog.
Frog and Toad ate many cookies,
one after another.
“You know, Toad,” said Frog,
with his mouth full,
“I think we should stop eating.
We will soon be sick.”
“You are right,” said Toad.
“Let us eat one last cookie,
and then we will stop.”
Frog and Toad ate
one last cookie.
There were many cookies
left in the bowl.
“Frog,” said Toad,
“let us eat one very last cookie,
and then we will stop.”
Frog and Toad
ate one very last cookie.
“We must stop eating!” cried Toad
as he ate another.
“Yes,” said Frog,
reaching for a cookie,
“we need will power.”
“What is will power?” asked Toad.
“Will power is trying hard
not to do something
that you really want to do,”
said Frog.
“You mean like trying hard not
to eat all of these cookies?”
asked Toad.
“Right,” said Frog.
Frog put the cookies in a box.
“There,” he said.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can open the box,”
said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog tied some string
around the box.
“There,” he said.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can cut the string
and open the box,” said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog got a ladder.
He put the box up on a high shelf.
“There,” said Frog.
“Now we will not eat
any more cookies.”
“But we can climb the ladder
and take the box
down from the shelf
and cut the string
and open the box,”
said Toad.
“That is true,” said Frog.
Frog climbed the ladder
and took the box
down from the shelf.
He cut the string
and opened the box.
Frog took the box outside.
He shouted in a loud voice.
“HEY BIRDS,
HERE ARE COOKIES!”
Birds came from everywhere.
They picked up all the cookies
in their beaks and flew away.
“Now we have no more cookies to eat,”
said Toad sadly.
“Not even one.”
“Yes,” said Frog,
“but we have lots and lots
of will power.”
“You may keep it all, Frog,”
said Toad.
“I am going home now
to bake a cake.”
21 August 2017
from The Young Visiters, chapter 9, A Proposale (Daisy Ashford)
Next morning while imbibing his morning tea beneath his pink silken quilt Bernard decided he must marry Ethel with no more delay. I love the girl he said to himself and she must be mine but I somehow feel I can not propose in London it would not be seemly in the city of London. We must go for a day in the country and when surrounded by the gay twittering of the birds and the smell of the cows I will lay my suit at her feet and he waved his arm wildly at the gay thought. Then he sprang from bed and gave a rat tat at Ethels door.
Are you up my dear he called.
Well not quite said Ethel hastilly jumping from her downy nest.
Be quick cried Bernard I have a plan to spend a day near Windsor Castle and we will take our lunch and spend a happy day.
Oh Hurrah shouted Ethel I shall soon be ready as I had my bath last night so wont wash very much now.
No dont said Bernard and added in a rarther fervent tone through the chink of the door you are fresher than the rose my dear no soap could make you fairer.
Then he dashed off very embarrased to dress. Ethel blushed and felt a bit excited as she heard the words and she put on a new white muslin dress in a fit of high spirits. She looked very beautifull with some red roses in her hat and the dainty red ruge in her cheeks looked quite the thing. Bernard heaved a sigh and his eyes flashed as he beheld her and Ethel thorght to herself what a fine type of manhood he reprisented with his nice thin legs in pale broun trousers and well fitting spats and a red rose in his button hole and rarther a sporting cap which gave him a great air with its quaint check and little flaps to pull down if necesarry. Off they started the envy of all the waiters.
They arrived at Windsor very hot from the jorney and Bernard at once hired a boat to row his beloved up the river. Ethel could not row but she much enjoyed seeing the tough sunburnt arms of Bernard tugging at the oars as she lay among the rich cushons of the dainty boat. She had a rarther lazy nature but Bernard did not know of this. However he soon got dog tired and sugested lunch by the mossy bank.
Oh yes said Ethel quickly opening the sparkling champaigne.
Dont spill any cried Bernard as he carved some chicken.
They eat and drank deeply of the charming viands ending up with merangs and choclates.
Let us now bask under the spreading trees said Bernard in a passiunate tone.
Oh yes lets said Ethel and she opened her dainty parasole and sank down upon the long green grass. She closed her eyes but she was far from asleep. Bernard sat beside her in profound silence gazing at her pink face and long wavy eye lashes. He puffed at his pipe for some moments while the larks gaily caroled in the blue sky. Then he edged a trifle closer to Ethels form.
Ethel he murmured in a trembly voice.
Oh what is it said Ethel hastily sitting up.
Words fail me ejaculated Bernard horsly my passion for you is intense he added fervently. It has grown day and night since I first beheld you.
Oh said Ethel in supprise I am not prepared for this and she lent back against the trunk of the tree.
Bernard placed one arm tightly round her. When will you marry me Ethel he uttered you must be my wife it has come to that I love you so intensly that if you say no I shall perforce dash my body to the brink of yon muddy river he panted wildly.
Oh dont do that implored Ethel breathing rarther hard.
Then say you love me he cried.
Oh Bernard she sighed fervently I certinly love you madly you are to me like a Heathen god she cried looking at his manly form and handsome flashing face I will indeed marry you.
How soon gasped Bernard gazing at her intensly.
As soon as possible said Ethel gently closing her eyes.
My Darling whispered Bernard and he seiezed her in his arms we will be marrid next week.
Oh Bernard muttered Ethel this is so sudden.
No no cried Bernard and taking the bull by both horns he kissed her violently on her dainty face. My bride to be he murmered several times.
Ethel trembled with joy as she heard the mistick words.
Oh Bernard she said little did I ever dream of such as this and she suddenly fainted into his out stretched arms.
Oh I say gasped Bernard and laying the dainty burden on the grass he dashed to the waters edge and got a cup full of the fragrant river to pour on his true loves pallid brow.
She soon came to and looked up with a sickly smile Take me back to the Gaierty hotel she whispered faintly.
With plesure my darling said Bernard I will just pack up our viands ere I unloose the boat.
Ethel felt better after a few drops of champagne and began to tidy her hair while Bernard packed the remains of the food. Then arm in arm they tottered to the boat.
I trust you have not got an illness my darling murmured Bernard as he helped her in.
Oh no I am very strong said Ethel I fainted from joy she added to explain matters.
Oh I see said Bernard handing her a cushon well some people do he added kindly and so saying they rowed down the dark stream now flowing silently beneath a golden moon. All was silent as the lovers glided home with joy in their hearts and radiunce on their faces only the sound of the mystearious water lapping against the frail vessel broke the monotony of the night.
So I will end my chapter.
Are you up my dear he called.
Well not quite said Ethel hastilly jumping from her downy nest.
Be quick cried Bernard I have a plan to spend a day near Windsor Castle and we will take our lunch and spend a happy day.
Oh Hurrah shouted Ethel I shall soon be ready as I had my bath last night so wont wash very much now.
No dont said Bernard and added in a rarther fervent tone through the chink of the door you are fresher than the rose my dear no soap could make you fairer.
Then he dashed off very embarrased to dress. Ethel blushed and felt a bit excited as she heard the words and she put on a new white muslin dress in a fit of high spirits. She looked very beautifull with some red roses in her hat and the dainty red ruge in her cheeks looked quite the thing. Bernard heaved a sigh and his eyes flashed as he beheld her and Ethel thorght to herself what a fine type of manhood he reprisented with his nice thin legs in pale broun trousers and well fitting spats and a red rose in his button hole and rarther a sporting cap which gave him a great air with its quaint check and little flaps to pull down if necesarry. Off they started the envy of all the waiters.
They arrived at Windsor very hot from the jorney and Bernard at once hired a boat to row his beloved up the river. Ethel could not row but she much enjoyed seeing the tough sunburnt arms of Bernard tugging at the oars as she lay among the rich cushons of the dainty boat. She had a rarther lazy nature but Bernard did not know of this. However he soon got dog tired and sugested lunch by the mossy bank.
Oh yes said Ethel quickly opening the sparkling champaigne.
Dont spill any cried Bernard as he carved some chicken.
They eat and drank deeply of the charming viands ending up with merangs and choclates.
Let us now bask under the spreading trees said Bernard in a passiunate tone.
Oh yes lets said Ethel and she opened her dainty parasole and sank down upon the long green grass. She closed her eyes but she was far from asleep. Bernard sat beside her in profound silence gazing at her pink face and long wavy eye lashes. He puffed at his pipe for some moments while the larks gaily caroled in the blue sky. Then he edged a trifle closer to Ethels form.
Ethel he murmured in a trembly voice.
Oh what is it said Ethel hastily sitting up.
Words fail me ejaculated Bernard horsly my passion for you is intense he added fervently. It has grown day and night since I first beheld you.
Oh said Ethel in supprise I am not prepared for this and she lent back against the trunk of the tree.
Bernard placed one arm tightly round her. When will you marry me Ethel he uttered you must be my wife it has come to that I love you so intensly that if you say no I shall perforce dash my body to the brink of yon muddy river he panted wildly.
Oh dont do that implored Ethel breathing rarther hard.
Then say you love me he cried.
Oh Bernard she sighed fervently I certinly love you madly you are to me like a Heathen god she cried looking at his manly form and handsome flashing face I will indeed marry you.
How soon gasped Bernard gazing at her intensly.
As soon as possible said Ethel gently closing her eyes.
My Darling whispered Bernard and he seiezed her in his arms we will be marrid next week.
Oh Bernard muttered Ethel this is so sudden.
No no cried Bernard and taking the bull by both horns he kissed her violently on her dainty face. My bride to be he murmered several times.
Ethel trembled with joy as she heard the mistick words.
Oh Bernard she said little did I ever dream of such as this and she suddenly fainted into his out stretched arms.
Oh I say gasped Bernard and laying the dainty burden on the grass he dashed to the waters edge and got a cup full of the fragrant river to pour on his true loves pallid brow.
She soon came to and looked up with a sickly smile Take me back to the Gaierty hotel she whispered faintly.
With plesure my darling said Bernard I will just pack up our viands ere I unloose the boat.
Ethel felt better after a few drops of champagne and began to tidy her hair while Bernard packed the remains of the food. Then arm in arm they tottered to the boat.
I trust you have not got an illness my darling murmured Bernard as he helped her in.
Oh no I am very strong said Ethel I fainted from joy she added to explain matters.
Oh I see said Bernard handing her a cushon well some people do he added kindly and so saying they rowed down the dark stream now flowing silently beneath a golden moon. All was silent as the lovers glided home with joy in their hearts and radiunce on their faces only the sound of the mystearious water lapping against the frail vessel broke the monotony of the night.
So I will end my chapter.
16 May 2016
Grace (Robert Herrick)
What God gives, and what we take,
'Tis a gift for Christ His sake:
Be the meale of Beanes and Pease,
God be thank'd for those, and these:
Have we flesh, or have we fish,
All are Fragments from His dish.
He His Church save, and the King,
And our Peace here, like a Spring,
Make it ever flourishing.
'Tis a gift for Christ His sake:
Be the meale of Beanes and Pease,
God be thank'd for those, and these:
Have we flesh, or have we fish,
All are Fragments from His dish.
He His Church save, and the King,
And our Peace here, like a Spring,
Make it ever flourishing.
11 July 2012
from Coot Club, chapter XVII, Port and Starboard Miss Their Ship (Arthur Ransome)
'A letter?' said Port, looking at the pile by her father's plate. 'But he's had lots.'
'Well, he's ta'en this yin to the telephone,' said Mrs McGinty, and then they heard their father's voice through the open door of the study.
'Never mind about keeping things hot, Mrs McGinty. I'll have to be gone in a minute ... Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Is that Norwich Ten-sixty-six? Norwich ... One-owe-double-six ... Hallo! Yes. I said so. Engaged? Can't be engaged. Private exchange. Please ring them again. Give them another ring. A long one. Hallo! Hallo! Is that Norwich One-owe-double-six? Oh. Wrong number. Ring off please ... Hallo! Exchange? Oh, please ring off. Exchange? ... Hallo! Hallo! ... Bring me a cup of coffee out here, somebody ... Hallo! Exchange! Gave me a wrong number. No. No. Not one-double-six. One-owe-double-six. Thank you, Bessie. Take care, Nell. Don't make me take too big a mouthful. I've got to be able to talk to these dunderheaded nincompoops. Hallo! Oh, is that you, Walters? Thank goodness for that. Nip round to the office and get me all the papers in that Bollington business. Consultations on it this week. Yes ... All in the folder. And the deeds ... Yes, yes. Bring the whole lot down to the station. Coming in by car. You'll get it garaged after I've gone. I've got to catch the nine-one. Right. Good man. Everything on the case ...' He hung up the receiver, took another mouthful of buttered egg from Starboard, washed it down with a drink of coffee offered him by Port, and hurried back to the dining-room.
'What is it, A.P.?' asked Starboard.
Mr Farland looked at his watch and compared it with the clock on the mantelpiece, a clock won by the Flash at Wroxham Regatta the year before.
'Seven minutes for breakfast ... Yes, Mrs McGinty, if you will be so good. The small suitcase. Everything for a week ...'
'You aren't going away?' said Port.
'These things will happen,' said Mr Farland. 'I didn't expect this business to come on for another two months at least ...'
'Well, he's ta'en this yin to the telephone,' said Mrs McGinty, and then they heard their father's voice through the open door of the study.
'Never mind about keeping things hot, Mrs McGinty. I'll have to be gone in a minute ... Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Is that Norwich Ten-sixty-six? Norwich ... One-owe-double-six ... Hallo! Yes. I said so. Engaged? Can't be engaged. Private exchange. Please ring them again. Give them another ring. A long one. Hallo! Hallo! Is that Norwich One-owe-double-six? Oh. Wrong number. Ring off please ... Hallo! Exchange? Oh, please ring off. Exchange? ... Hallo! Hallo! ... Bring me a cup of coffee out here, somebody ... Hallo! Exchange! Gave me a wrong number. No. No. Not one-double-six. One-owe-double-six. Thank you, Bessie. Take care, Nell. Don't make me take too big a mouthful. I've got to be able to talk to these dunderheaded nincompoops. Hallo! Oh, is that you, Walters? Thank goodness for that. Nip round to the office and get me all the papers in that Bollington business. Consultations on it this week. Yes ... All in the folder. And the deeds ... Yes, yes. Bring the whole lot down to the station. Coming in by car. You'll get it garaged after I've gone. I've got to catch the nine-one. Right. Good man. Everything on the case ...' He hung up the receiver, took another mouthful of buttered egg from Starboard, washed it down with a drink of coffee offered him by Port, and hurried back to the dining-room.
'What is it, A.P.?' asked Starboard.
Mr Farland looked at his watch and compared it with the clock on the mantelpiece, a clock won by the Flash at Wroxham Regatta the year before.
'Seven minutes for breakfast ... Yes, Mrs McGinty, if you will be so good. The small suitcase. Everything for a week ...'
'You aren't going away?' said Port.
'These things will happen,' said Mr Farland. 'I didn't expect this business to come on for another two months at least ...'
04 September 2011
from How to Run Your Home without Help, chapter XIX, Entertaining with Enjoyment (Kay Smallshaw)
'Having friends in' or 'throwing a party' according to your vocabulary and the kind of hospitality you like to offer, can be one of the pleasanter things in life. It can also be disappointingly hard work. No one really enjoys being entertained when the preparation has obviously tired out the hostess in advance. Yet the welcome seems to lack some warmth when no effort has been made to make the occasion something a little out of the ordinary. Single-handed, you mustn't be too ambitious, although very naturally you want your guests to feel that visiting you is a delightful event in every way.
The kind of hospitality you offer will depend upon your own temperament, as well as your pocket. If you're gregarious you'll like to have plenty of visitors, even if it means that there can't be very much in the way of refreshments. On the other hand, you may get more satisfaction from inviting one or two friends to tea, or to a little dinner-party every so often, knowing that, in a simple way, everything is perfect. So set your own style; and choose your guests to match. Then if you plan carefully, everyone, host and hostess included, should have a good time.
But whatever the usual programme, you'll want to show, once or twice at least, what you can do in the way of a sit-down evening meal. In-laws will like to see the new home, and you want to exhibit your skill as both hostess and cook. Combining these two rôles successfully is quite a test, but if your husband says afterwards: 'You did wonderfully', everything will have been worthwhile.
The kind of hospitality you offer will depend upon your own temperament, as well as your pocket. If you're gregarious you'll like to have plenty of visitors, even if it means that there can't be very much in the way of refreshments. On the other hand, you may get more satisfaction from inviting one or two friends to tea, or to a little dinner-party every so often, knowing that, in a simple way, everything is perfect. So set your own style; and choose your guests to match. Then if you plan carefully, everyone, host and hostess included, should have a good time.
But whatever the usual programme, you'll want to show, once or twice at least, what you can do in the way of a sit-down evening meal. In-laws will like to see the new home, and you want to exhibit your skill as both hostess and cook. Combining these two rôles successfully is quite a test, but if your husband says afterwards: 'You did wonderfully', everything will have been worthwhile.
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