A Quote by Douglas Adams

Lovers of print are simply confusing the plate for the food. — © Douglas Adams
Lovers of print are simply confusing the plate for the food.
IMBECILE!" the chef shouted. "Next time why don't you just put your whole HAND in the food, hey? Yes, your whole hand, or maybe your FACE! I arrange the food on plates with care, are you understanding what I am telling you? It is part of the art form of cooking, yes? A lovely plate of food is a thing of beauty! And then you, NUMBSKULL, come along and put your fat greasy FINGERS all over my plate, and SHAKE the plate, and move my food all around the plate until it looks like pigs' vomit!" "Chef Vlad!" I cried out in delight.
I like how food can look incredible more than I like eating it. I started moving food around the plate to make it appear I'd eaten more but then enjoyed making faces on the plate - peas for eyebrows, Yorkshire puddings for eyes.
And if you worry that not finishing the food on your plate is a slap in the face of all the hungry people everywhere, you are not living in reality. The truth is that you either throw the food out or you throw it in, but either way it turns to waste. World hunger will not be solved by finishing the garlic mashed potatoes on your plate.
I'm in the game of spinning plates. I'm spinning a boxing plate. I'm spinning a Tae Kwon Do plate. I'm spinning a Jujitsu plate. I'm spinning a freestyle wrestling plate. I'm spinning a karate plate. If I was to put all them down and have one boxing plate spinning, it would be like a load off my shoulders.
The advent of Kindle, the iPad, and other portable reading devices has so far simply resulted in turning analog print into digital print while keeping the same linear prose format.
I'll get depressed out on the road simply because I'm not being the mama that's cooking supper every night, or that's fixing my husband's plate and my baby's plate. You miss those things, and I miss them.
You ever go out to a restaurant now? You can get quality food - you can go out and get the best food that was available 20 years ago. They'll put it on a plate, you'll sit in a plastic chair because nobody values the chair, the white tablecloth, the maître d', but they'll put on your plate some great food for what used to be available at Applebee's prices. There are some really nice things going on, some external values being delivered to people.
Lovers never surrender to each other, lovers simply surrender to love.
Food is one part of the experience. And it has to be somewhere between 50 to 60 percent of the dining experience. But the rest counts as well: The mood, the atmosphere, the music, the feeling, the design, the harmony between what you have on the plate and what surrounds the plate.
The food could taste amazing; however, if you present a plate of misfortunate looking food...you would really question yourself about whether or not you should eat it.
No one, not even lovers, are truly psychic, and everyone flounders around each other, misunderstanding, misinterpreting, sending out confusing signals.
Bill Blass came in all the time, and I would make him roast chicken with spring potatoes and spring porcini with spring onion. And baby artichokes. And never, ever did he find a better chicken. Norman Parkinson, one of the greatest photographers alive, came every lunch to Le Cirque. And every time he would clean up his plate with his bread and then he would take his marker and write on the plate how much he loved the food. I think at Le Cirque I learned how to make real food, which is what people crave, not just gimmicky things on a plate.
They'd never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. But they'd been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the necessary moment. Lovers by inclination rather than by lust. Lovers, that is, by love.
I feel like the Earth is a re-print of a re-print of a print of a re-print.
I love a wild animal print. Not just a leopard print - I'm talking about a tiger or zebra print, too.
You kind of did fight for food, so I filled up my plate. My dad would make us finish it, and I'd sit there crying because I'd have to finish all that food. I think that forced my stomach to stretch.
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