In America We Eat, Collectively, With A

There Are Many People Like Me Who Believe Firmly, If Somewhat Incoherently, That Pockets On This Planet Are Filled With What Humans Have Left Behind Them, Both Good And Evil, And That Any Such Spiritual Accumulation Can Stay There Forever, Past Definition Of Such A Stern Word.

A Well-made Martini Or Gibson, Correctly Chilled And Nicely Served, Has Been More Often My True Friend Than Any Two-legged Creature.

All 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 Rich Or Poor.

Write One Good Clean Sentence And Put A Period At The End Of It. Then Write Another One.

. . . Gastronomical Perfection Can Be Reached In These Combinations: One Person Dining Alone, Usually Upon A Couch Or A Hill Side; Two People, Of No Matter What Sex Or Age, Dining In A Good Restaurant; Six People . . . Dining In A Good Home.