/ck/ - Food & Cooking

Sardines. There were lots of sardines in those flat rectangular cans with the key under the paper. Good. He would have some of those. Tins of deviled ham. No keys, but he could open a couple of cans in her kitchen, and eat those first Bury the empties deep in her own overflowing garbage There was an open package of Sun-Maid raisins containing smaller boxes, which the ad-copy on the torn cellophane wrapper called "mini-snacks". Paul added four of the mini-snacks to the growing stash in his lap, plus single-serving boxes of Corn Flakes and Wheaties. He noted there were no single-serving boxes of pre-sweetened cereals. If there had been, Annie had chowed them down on her last binge.

On a higher shelf was a pile of Slim Jims, as neatly stacked as the kindling in Annie's shed. He took four, trying not to disturb the pyramidal structure of the pile, and ate one of them greedily, relishing the salty taste and the grease. He tucked the wrapping into his underwear for later disposal.

- from "Misery" by Stephen King

Most of the feast scenes in the Redwall series. It was erotica for food. I still have yet to consume elderberry wine.

two posts.

both by stephen king.

god. /ck/ is rather mundane.

>>4248298
I quoted judy blume too buttmuch

The following series of posts are from Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury.

There was a great flurry of arrival. Somewhere trumpets were shouting. Somewhere rooms were teeming with boarders and neighbors having afternoon tea. An aunt had arrived and her name was Rose and you could hear her voice clarion clear above the others, and you could imagine her warm and huge as a hothouse rose, exactly like her name, filling any room she sat in. But right now, to Douglas, the voice, the commotion, were nothing at all. He had come from his own house, and now stood outside Grandma’s kitchen door just as Grandma, having excused herself from the chicken squabble in the parlor, whisked into her own domain and set about making supper. She saw him standing there, opened the screen door for him, kissed his brow, brushed his pale hair back from his eyes, looked him straight on in the face to see if the fever had fallen to ashes and, seeing that it had, went on, singing, to her work.

>>4248793

Grandma, he had often wanted to say, Is this where the world began? For surely it had begun in no other than a place like this. The kitchen, without doubt, was the center of creation, all things revolved about it; it was the pediment that sustained the temple.

Eyes shut to let his nose wander, he snuffed deeply. He moved in the hell-fire steams and sudden baking-powder flurries of snow in this miraculous climate where Grandma, with the look of the Indies in her eyes and the flesh of two firm warm hens in her bodice, Grandma of the thousand arms, shook, basted, whipped, beat, minced, diced, peeled, wrapped, salted, stirred.

Blind, he touched his way to the pantry door. A squeal of laughter rang from the parlor, teacups tinkled. But he moved on into the cool underwater green and wild-persimmon country where the slung and hanging odor of creamy bananas ripened silently and bumped his head. Gnats fitted angrily about vinegar cruets and his ears. He opened his eyes. He saw bread waiting to be cut into slices of warm summer cloud, doughnuts strewn like clown hoops from some edible game. The faucets turned on and
off in his cheeks. Here on the plum-shadowed side of the house with maple leaves making a creek-water running in the hot wind at the window he read spice-cabinet names.

>>4248803

How do I thank Mr. Jonas, he wondered, for what he’s done? How do I thank him, how to pay him back? No way, no way at all. You just can’t pay. What then? What? Pass it on somehow, he thought, pass it on to someone else. Keep the chain moving. Look around, find someone, and pass it on. That was the only way . . .

“Cayenne, marjoram, cinnamon.”

The names of lost and fabulous cities through which storms of spice bloomed up and
dusted away.

He tossed the cloves that had traveled from some dark continent where once they had
spilled on milk marble, jackstones for children with licorice hands.

And looking at one single label on a jar, he felt himself gone round the calendar to that private day this summer when he had looked at the circling world and found himself at its center.

The word on the jar was RELISH.

And he was glad he had decided to live.

>>4248293
This.
Reading redwall made me crave fruit and fresh baked bread so hard

>picture pretty much related

>>4248810

RELISH! What a special name for the minced pickle sweetly crushed in its white-capped jar. The man who had named it, what a man he must have been. Roaring, stamping around, he must have tromped the joys of the world and jammed them in this jar and writ in a big hand, shouting, RELISH! For its very sound meant rolling in sweet fields with roistering chestnut mares, mouths bearded with grass, plunging your head fathoms deep in trough water so the sea poured cavernously through your head. RELISH!

He put out his hand. And here was—SAVORY.

“What’s Grandma cooking for dinner tonight?” said Aunt Rose’s voice from the real world of afternoon in the parlor.

“No one knows what Grandma cooks,” said Grandfather, home from the office early to tend this immense flower, “until we sit at table. There’s always mystery, always suspense.”

“Well, I always like to know what I’m going to eat,” cried Aunt Rose, and laughed. The chandelier prisms in the dining room rang with pain.

Douglas moved deeper into pantry darkness.
“Savory . . .that’s a swell word. And Basil and Betel. Capsicum. Curry. All great. But Relish, now, Relish with a capital R. No argument, that’s the best.”

>>4248816

Trailing veils of steam, Grandma came and went and came again with covered dishes from kitchen to table while the assembled company waited in silence. No one lifted lids to peer in at the hidden victuals. At last Grandma sat down, Grandpa said grace, and immediately thereafter the silverware flew up like a plague of locusts on the air. When everyone’s mouths were absolutely crammed full of miracles, Grandmother sat back and said, “Well, how do you like it?”

And the relatives, including Aunt Rose, and the boarders, their teeth deliciously mortared together at this moment, faced a terrible dilemma. Speak and break the spell, or continue allowing this honey-syrup food of the gods to dissolve and melt away to glory in their mouths? They looked as if they might laugh or cry at the cruel dilemma. They looked as if they might sit there forever, untouched by fire or earthquake, or shooting in the street, a massacre of innocents in the yard, overwhelmed with effluviums and promises of immortality. All villains were innocent in this moment of tender herbs, sweet celeries, luscious roots. The eye sped over a snow field where lay fricassees, salmagundis, gumbos, freshly invented succotashes, chowders, ragouts. The only sound was a primeval bubbling from the kitchen and the clocklike chiming of fork-on-plate announcing the seconds instead of the hours.

>>4248293
holy jesus this guy knows

>>4248825

And then Aunt Rose gathered her indomitable pinkness and health and strength into herself with one deep breath and, fork poised on air, looking at the mystery there impaled, spoke in much too loud a voice.

“Oh, it’s beautiful food all right. But what is this thing we’re eating?”

The lemonade stopped tinkling in the frosty glasses, the forks ceased flashing on the
air and came to rest on the table.

Douglas gave Aunt Rose that look which a shot deer gives the hunter before it falls dead. Wounded surprise appeared in each face down the line. The food was self-explanatory, wasn’t it? It was its own philosophy, it asked and answered its own questions. Wasn’t it enough that your blood and your body asked no more than this moment of ritual and rare incense?

“I really don’t believe,” said Aunt Rose, “that anyone heard my question.”

At last Grandma let her lips open a trifle to allow the answer out.

“I call this our Thursday Special. We have it regularly.”

This was a lie.

>>4248814
Humans get along with other predatory animals surprisingly well.

>>4248830

In all the years not one single dish resembled another. Was this one from the deep green sea? Had that one been shot from blue summer air? Was it a swimming food or a flying food, had it pumped blood or chlorophyll, had it walked or leaned after the sun? No one knew. No one asked. No one cared.

The most people did was stand in the kitchen door and peer at the baking-powder explosions, enjoy the clangs and rattles and bangs like a factory gone wild where Grandma stared half blindly about, letting her fingers find their way among canisters and bowls.

Was she conscious of her talent? Hardly. If asked about her cooking, Grandma would look down at her hands which some glorious instinct sent on journeys to be gloved in flour, or to plumb disencumbered turkeys, wrist-deep in search of their animal souls. Her gray eyes blinked from spectacles warped by forty years of oven blasts and blinded with strewings of pepper and sage, so she sometimes flung cornstarch over steaks, amazingly tender, succulent steaks! And sometimes dropped apricots into meat leaves, cross-pollinated meats, herbs, fruits, vegetables with no prejudice, no tolerance for recipe or formula, save that at the final moment of delivery, mouths watered, blood thundered in response. Her lands then, like the hands of Great-grandma before her, were Grandma’s mystery, delight, and life. She looked at them in astonishment, but let them live their life the way they must absolutely lead it.

>>4248840

But now for the first time in endless years, here was an upstart, a questioner, a laboratory scientist almost, speaking out where silence could have been a virtue. “Yes, yes, but what did you put in this Thursday Special?”

“Why,” said Grandma evasively, “what does it taste like to you?”

Aunt Rose sniffed the morsel on the fork.

“Beef, or is it lamb? Ginger, or is it cinnamon? Ham sauce? Bilberries? Some biscuit
thrown in? Chives? Almonds?”

“That’s it exactly,” said Grandma. “Second helpings, everyone?”

(end)

>>4248838
Why is there a cat with a puma?

All the feasts in the Harry potter series.

>>4248912
>Butterbeer

>>4248284
>"They were charred on the outside, raw on the inside, and totally delicious." - from "The Body", by Stephen King
Holy shit, I thought of this after reading the first line of your post!

There was a part in the children's book, "The Sign of the Beaver" where the protagonist is sick and they describe skimming the fat off the surface of bear stew and giving to him. Made me drool.

>not keeping your Ketchup capitalized

Oh man, food descriptions from The Road by Cormac McCarthy.
Even better, it makes sense that the food descriptions would be so detailed because there's hardly any food left, anywhere at all.

The one that stands out the most is when the Boy and his Father find a ham and dig in to that shit. Made me so hungry.

>butterbeer
Harry Potter
>cheese wheels
Redwall
>lembas bread
Lord of the Rings

>>4248973
the scene where they find the underground stash of food made me so. fucking. hungry

>>4248284

I once remembered a book where the author described the protagonist eating a bacon sandwich with apple butter and black pepper or something of the sort, on plain white bread.

It was awful.

Whenever I watch Moonshiners I HAVE to find a drink. Hard liquor preferably. Beer in a pinch.

>>4250087
Big two hearted river had something similar to this

there is this fairly obscure childrens/ya writer, daniel pinkwater. everything written about food in the stories is ridiculously detailed, even fictional things

>>4252177
>daniel pinkwater
>obscure

Nope.

Theres a passage i remember from the kids book "ramona" that i remember to this very day even though i havent read that book in aprox 25 years... it describes her dad taking the fam out to dinner even though he just lost his job or a promotion or something like that..." the french fries were crispy on the outside and warm and meely on the inside"

>inb4 fag alert

http://literaryfoodporn.blogspot.ca/

>>4252198
whatever you say boss

>>4248284
HOLY FUCK OP, both those quotes were on the tip of my memory bank.
You got in my head. That passage from superfudge is why I've been nibbling pork chop bones ( family never ate lamb growing up) with ketchup since 4th grade.
I loved super charred/rare hamburger when camping, too, often while camping because of that story.
Funny how stories shape our minds.

>>4252254
> whencampingwhencamping
fuck I'm tired

>>4248293
>all dat fruit
>skilly'n'duff
>october ale
>hotroot soup
>all dat bread
>strawberry fizz
>strawberry cordial
>deeper'n'ever turnip'n'tater'n'beetroot pie

The chapter on Captain Crunch in Cryptonomicon comes to mind.
Fucking Neal Stephenson.

>>4248293
I'm going to do a dump just for you guys. This isn't the entire cookbook unfortunately, but it's a good portion of it.

>>4252382

Not so much from a book, but the dinner scene in Hotel Dusk also makes me starving when I play through that game.

>>4252388

>>4252393

>>4248284
Mountain food

>>4252400

There's a book here in which I read about the tiral of a Jew, who took a child of four years old and cut off the fingers from both hands, and then crucified him on the wall, hammered nails into him and crucified him, and afterwards, when he was tried he said that the child died soon, within four hours. That was 'soon'! He said the child moaned, kept on moaning and he stood admiring it. That's nice!"

"Nice?"

"Nice, I sometimes imagine that it was I who crucified him. He would hang there moaning and I would sit opposite him eating pineapple compote. I am awfully fond of pineapple compote. Do you like it?"

>>4252404

>>4252402
HOLY SHIT THIS
GODDAMN
I had to read this for a book project in 4th grade and I thought it would be super boring, but no, best (wild) food descriptions EVER.
By the end I was thinking "what the fuck were the newberry awards committee thinking this shit deserves a platinum medal".

>>4252409

>>4252415

>>4252417

>>4252410
Alyosha looked at her in silence. Her pale, sallow face was suddenly contorted, her eyes burned.
"You know, when I read about that Jew I shook with sobs all night. I kept fancying how the little thing cried and moaned (a child of four years old understands, you know) and all the while the thought of pineapple compote haunted me. In the morning I wrote a letter to a certain person, begging him particularly to come and see me. He came and I suddenly told him all about the child and the pineapple compote. All about it, all, and said that it was nice. He laughed and said it really was nice. Then he got up and went away. He was only here five minutes. Did he despise me? Did he despise me? Tel l me, tell me, Alyosha, did he despise me or not?" She sat up on the couch, with flashing eyes.
"Tell me," Alyosha asked anxiously, "did you send for that person?"
"Yea, I did."
"Did you send him a letter?"
"Yes."
"Simply to ask about that, about that child!"
"No, not about that at all. But when he came, I asked him about that at once. He answered, laughed, got up and went away."
"That person behaved honourably," Alyosha murmured.
"And did he despise me? Did he laugh at me!"
"No, for perhaps he believes in the pineapple compote himself. He is very ill now, too, Lise."
"Yes, he does believe in it," said Lise, with flashing eyes.

>>4252419

>>4252426

>>4252430

>>4252435

There's this book, I forget the name, it had anthropomorphic rabbits and wolves fighting it out with spears and it had a funny name, and the main character liked to read books instead of fight. The food descriptions, in particular his tea, were really detailed.
Oh, and the rabbit people could ski as well.
Anybody know the name?

>>4252439

>>4252445

>>4252447

>>4252451

>>4252454

>>4252460

>>4252463

>>4252469
And here's the last of them. I hope you guys at least attempt a few of these recipes, the ones I've tried have turned out delicious.

>>4252473
Thank you sir, both for these recipes and the knowledge that this book exists....and reminding me to go back and read the redwall series...

Not a book but: "I ate his liver with fava beans and a nice chianti"
Pretty sure everybody knows what that's from.

>>4252409
this is actually a great recipe, serve with vanilla ice cream and its a real winner.

>>4252473
I can't wait until it's summertime, I want to make this

>>4248949
OH MY GOD SIGN OF THE BEAVER
Sign of the Beaver made me love fat. They hyped that shit up so much and made me believe it was treasure, so I didn't balk from it when I was little and I have loved it ever since.

Any time I savor a little bit of tender, delicious fat, I think of that book.

>>4252581
You do know that "Silence of the Lambs" was a book before it was a movie, right? In fact, it was the 2nd one in Thomas Harris's "Hannibal" series.

Hannibal considered himself a gourmet.

lrn2read

" Gunslinger burritos."

The Dark Tower series, by Stephen King.

>>4252382
i fucking love you so much.

>>4248293
This. Every book just made me hungry.

The first reference to sausage in literature. Gets me every time:

"As when a man beside a great fire has filled a sausage with fat and blood and turns it this way and that and is very eager to get it quickly roasted..."

Homer -- The Odyssey

>>4248284 (OP)

In middle school we read an excerpt that included that lamb chop line. I never forgot it. I couldn't remember the source of it, however. It's from "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing", not "Superfudge". However, thank you so much OP for reminding me of it and providing the exact line for me to look up.

>>4252393
Fuck yes. This thing ruined my childhood after I realized it didn't exist in the real world.
You sir, are a god.

If anyone has a copy of The Wind-up Bird Chronicle or 1q84 on hand, there are some great meal descriptions in those books (actually, in most of Murakami's books) that could be posted.

Hunga Games:

"Chicken and chunks of oranges cooked in a creamy sauce laid on a bed of pearly white grain, tiny green peas and onions, rolls shaped like flowers, and for dessert, a pudding the color of honey”.

”Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef sliced as thin as paper, noodles in a green sauce, cheese that melts on your tongue served with deep blue grapes”

etc etc

This is the longest thread I have ever seen in /ck/ that stayed on-topic and didn't result in fast food and insults being hurled about.

I suppose that is the benefit of chatting amongst ladies, or apart from the kids nowadays who have honestly never read a book.

Proverbs 23:2. Equating appetite with breathing? Now we're talking. That's how I feel about dairy products.

"And put a knife to thy throat, if thou be a man given to appetite."
King James Bible

"Lest you put a dagger to your mouth, if you are a man that breathes."
Aramaic Bible in Plain English (©2010)

>>4254993
Not to mention Genesis 27:1–40 w/that mess of pottage. Always wanted to try some of that.

>>4255029
pottage is just lentils
how about that ezekiel 4:9 cereal, ever tried that?