No yoga exercise, no meditation in a chapel filled with music will rid you of your blues better than the humble task of making your own bread.
M.F.K. FisherA writing cook and a cooking writer must be bold at the desk as well as the stove.
M.F.K. FisherAll men are hungry. They always have been. They must eat, and when they deny themselves the pleasures of carrying out that need, they are cutting off part of their possible fullness, their natural realization of life, whether they are poor or rich.
M.F.K. FisherLike most humans, I am hungry...our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it...
M.F.K. FisherWhen shall we live if not now?
M.F.K. FisherFirst we eat, then we do everything else.
M.F.K. FisherIn spite of all the talk and study about our next years, all the silent ponderings about what lies within them...it seems plain to us that many things are wrong in the present ones that can be, must be, changed. Our texture of belief has great holes in it. Our pattern lacks pieces.
M.F.K. FisherThere are very few men and women, I suspect, who cooked and marketed their way through the past war without losing forever some of the nonchalant extravagance of the Twenties. They will feel, until their final days on earth, a kind of culinary caution: butter, no matter how unlimited, is a precious substance not lightly to be wasted; meats, too, and eggs, and all the far-brought spices of the world, take on a new significance, having once been so rare. And that is good, for there can be no more shameful carelessness than with the food we eat for life itself When we exist without thought or thanksgiving we are not men, but beasts.
M.F.K. FisherMots clés society food war culture frugality
Painting, it is true, was undergoing a series of -isms reminiscent of the whims of a pregnant woman.
M.F.K. Fisher...after rare beef and wine, when the lobes turn red, was the time to ask favours or tell bad news.
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