The Table Is The Only Place Where

Gluttony Is Mankind's Exclusive Prerogative.

In The Centre Of A Spacious Table Rose A Pastry As Large As A Church, Flanked On The North By A Quarter Of Cold Veal, On The South By An Enormous Ham, On The East By A Monumental Pile Of Butter, And On The West By An Enormous Dish Of Artichokes, With A Hot Sauce.

Place A Substantial Meal Before A Tired Man And He Will Eat With Effort And Be Little Better For It At First. Give Him A Glass Of Wine Or Brandy, And Immediately He Feels Better: You See Him Come To Life Again Before You.

Those From Whom Nature Has Withheld Taste Invented Trousers.

Salad Freshens Without Enfeebling And Fortifies Without Irritating.