Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.
I did toy with the idea of doing a cook-book. . . . I think a lot of people who hate literature but love fried eggs would buy it if the price was right.
I did toy with the idea of doing a cook-book . . . The recipes were to be the routine ones: how to make dry toast, instant coffee, hearts of lettuce and brownies. But as an added attraction, at no extra charge, my idea was to put a fried egg on the cover. I think a lot of people who hate literature but love fried eggs would buy it if the price was right.
And talking about dark! You think dark is just one color, but it ain't. There're five or six kinds of black. Some silky, some woolly. Some just empty. Some like fingers. And it don't stay still, it moves and changes from one kind of black to another. Saying something is pitch black is like saying something is green. What kind of green? Green like my bottles? Green like a grasshopper? Green like a cucumber, lettuce, or green like the sky is just before it breaks loose to storm? Well, night black is the same way. May as well be a rainbow.
I have no truck with lettuce, cabbage, and similar chlorophyll. Any dietitian will tell you that a running foot of apple strudel contains four times the vitamins of a bushel of beans.
The word 'vegetable' has no precise botanical meaning in reference to food plants, and we find that almost all parts of plants have been employed as vegetables - roots (carrot and beet), stems (Irish potato and asparagus), leaves (spinach and lettuce), leaf stalk (celery and Swiss chard), bracts (globe artichoke), flower stalks and buds (broccoli and cauliflower), fruits (tomato and squash), seeds (beans), and even the petals (Yucca and pumpkin).
No blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you understand, and you show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change.
The fight is never about grapes or lettuce. It is always about people.
A naked lunch is natural to us We eat reality sandwiches. But allegories are so much lettuce. Don't hide the madness.
He has the vocal modulation of a railway-station announcer, the expressive power of a fence-post and the charisma of a week-old head of lettuce.
Just because we can ship organic lettuce from the Salinas Valley, or organic cut flowers from Peru, doesn't mean we should do it, not if we're really serious about energy and seasonality and bioregionalism.
On the moon we have everything. Lettuce, and pumpkin pie and Amanita phalloides. We have cat-furred plants and horses dancing with their wings. All the locks are solid and tight, and there are no ghosts.
My favorite sandwich is peanut butter, baloney, cheddar cheese, lettuce, and mayonnaise on toasted bread with catsup on the side.
I don't care if my lettuce has DDT on it, just as long as it's crisp.
I am open to the accusation that I see compost as an end it itself. But we do grow some real red damn tomatoes such as you can't get in the stores. And potatoes, beans, lettuce, collards, onions, squash, cauliflower, eggplant, carrots, peppers. Dirt in you own backyard, producing things you eat. Makes you wonder.
I quickly realized that more than any other vegetable, the potato evokes strong reactions in people. As the head of communications for the International Potato Centre in Peru put it, 'No one gets worked up over lettuce like they do the potato.'
Unbelievable as it may seem, one-third of all vegetables consumed in the United States come from just three sources: french fries, potato chips, and iceberg lettuce.
I'd forgotten what an honest sandwich it is. For those of you not familiar, 'BLT' stands for 'bacon, lettuce, and tomato.' A lot of people think the 'B' stands for 'bread,' and I can understand someone not wanting a lettuce and tomato sandwich. But, the bread is implied in the word 'sandwich.' Anyway, it's an American original. Everyone should have a BLT as soon as they can.
I feel like talking to people who don't tour, when you talk about touring - obviously we're super blessed and very lucky to be doing what we do - but there are so many weird things that could never happen anywhere else. When I talk to people who don't tour they look at me like I'm being bratty and complaining about this job that I have. It's not that! It's the fact that when I'm home I can exercise every day, I can cook myself good meals, then when I'm on the road for a long time it's like, "There's a Subway. I guess I'm eating a bowl full of lettuce because I don't eat McDonalds."
There was always a slug on the lettuce. This was too good to be true. He had never trusted Jester, and didn't trust David. He wasn't going to let his gaurd down just yet. Being carful had kept him alive this far. There was no reason to stop being careful now.
Tomato and lettuce-especially lettuce-is an abomination.
Once she'd loved my filet mignon, my carnivore inklings, but now she was a vegan princess, living off of beans. She'd given up the cheese and bacon, sworn off Burger King, and when I wouldn't do the same she gave me back my ring. I stood there by the romaine lettuce, feeling my heart pine. Wishing that this meatless beauty still would be all mine. She turned around to go to checkout, fifteen items or less. And I knew this was the last go-round, so this is what I said. ... "Don't you ever give me no rotten tomato, 'cause all I ever wanted was your sweet potato.
I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
I have an apple that thinks its a pear. And a bun that thinks it’s a cat. And a lettuce that thinks its a lettuce." "It’s a clever lettuce, then." "Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it’s a lettuce?" "Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked. "Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.
Americans will eat anything if it is toasted and held together with a couple of toothpicks and has lettuce sticking out of the sides, preferably a little wilted.
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