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Quote by Annie Falk

“There is nothing more magical than gathering an interesting group of people and enjoying good food in the expansive beauty of nature.”

Quote by Annie Falk

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Annie Falk

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“One thing consumed drugs all have in common, is our initial natural aversion toward them. The first mouthful of alcohol we drink is generally followed by an involuntary grimace. The first puff on a chemical-laden cigarette is followed often by a cough and splutter as the body tries to repel the alien pollution thrust upon it. Our first coffee and tea are generally also greeted somewhat similarly. Of course, it is frequently the case that despite these initial reactions, we push on past them until addiction is formed. Cooked food, although noticeably less recognised as addictive, evokes no less an initial reaction. Think of all those babies whose faces screw up in displeasure vainly attempting rejection of the denatured slop thrust upon them, and the hours spent crying from stomach pains. By the time they are advanced enough to linguistically voice their lack of desire for such foods, they are, alas, already well hooked.”

“On both sides, they've failed us...of course, we know about the industrialists. Their corn syrup and cheese product. Their factory farms ringed by rivers of blood and shit, blazing bonfires of disease barely contained by antibiotic blankets. These are among the most disgusting scenes in the history of this planet... But on the other side...the organic farms, the precious restaurants...these are toy supply chains. 'Farm to table,' they say. Well. When you go from farm to table, you leave a lot of people out...I think more poorly of these people than I do of the industrialists, because they know better. They know it's all broken, and what do they do? They plant vegetables in the backyard.”

“The poulterers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentleman, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced broad-girthed Spanish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples, clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers' benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shufflings ankle deep through withered lanes; there were Norfolk Biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner.”