I don't like to see animals in pain. That was very uncomfortable to me. I don't like factory farming. I'm not an advocate for the meat industry.
Breakfast is so important, so I'll make an omelet with cheese and deli meats, and then I'll eat muesli and yogurt mixed with fruit or oatmeal with fruit - and then a side of baked beans.
Everything tastes better with butter. Meat that has fat in it is tender in a certain way, flavorful in a certain way. It's hard to deny the flavor quotient there.
Some days I would go without any fire at all, and eat raw frozen meat and melt snow in my mouth for water.
My eating is pretty consistent. I like Greek yogurt for breakfast. I eat two giant salads a day, a broiled meat or fish, and a dark green vegetable at every meal.
Comedy just pokes at problems, rarely confronts them squarely. Drama is like a plate of meat and potatoes, comedy is rather the dessert, a bit like meringue.
One day, the people who work in my kitchen stir-fried chopped Napa cabbage to serve with some meat or fish for their own dinner. I got to thinking: 'What if the cabbage was the most important thing on the plate?'
Centuries ago, sailors on long voyages used to leave a pair of pigs on every deserted island. Or they'd leave a pair of goats. Either way, on any future visit, the island would be a source of meat. These islands, they were pristine. These were home t...
It was machines that scanned the heavens, machines that probed the space between atoms, machines that asked the questions and designed to experiments to answer them. All that was left for mere meat, apparently, was navel-gazing.
Sabine used to maintain that preparation for a dance is comparable to what goes on in the back room of a butcher's shop: the meat for consumption is sliced and dressed and put in nice little paper packages, ready for the kitchen.
It is difficult to put words to the smell of decomposing human. It is dense and cloying, sweet but not flower-sweet. Halfway between rotting fruit and rotting meat.
Mind you, the effectiveness of one hunter’s gun does not determine the number of bush meats the other hunter will kill. You got to be yourself. Be you.
I swore I would love you 'til the end of time, so now I'm praying for the end of time to hurry up and arrive.
I keep my love in the fridge, next to my meat, because you simply can’t beat it.
The preface? Why would he waste time with the preface? Skip the preface and move on to the meat of the thing!
Dorian used to watch you like a starving man who wants meat. Now he looks at you like he wants seconds.
Wrapped inside one is love. Wrapped inside another is hate. What do you think is wrapped inside the third? If you answered meat, beans, and cheese, you'd be correct.
How good it is, when you have roast meat or suchlike foods before you, to impress on your mind that this is the dead body of a fish, this the dead body of a bird or pig.
For one country is different from another; its earth is different, as are its stones, wines, bread, meat, and everything that grows and thrives in a specific region.
In theory, I stick to how I could eat if I lived a thousand years ago. I take processed foods off the menu, and stick to things I could hunt or gather, with more fruits , vegetables, and nuts - and less meat.
Seafarers are used to being exploited. At sea, the captain moans at chandlers who supply ships with green bananas that will never ripen; at fruit that goes moldy obscenely fast; at sub-standard meat.
