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I can no more think of my own life without thinking of wine and wines and where they grew for me and why I drank them when I did and why I picked the grapes and where I opened the oldest procurable bottles, and all that, than I can remember living before I breathed.

M. F. K. Fisher

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M. F. K. Fisher
Age: 83 †
Born: 1908
Born: July 3
Died: 1992
Died: June 22
Author
Diarist
Memoirist
Screenwriter
Writer
Albion
Michigan
M.F.K. Fisher
Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher
Without
Drank
Think
Picked
Thinking
Bottles
Life
Opened
Wine
Wines
Grew
Breathed
Living
Oldest
Remember
Grapes

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. . . word-sniffing . . . is an addiction, like glue -- or snow -- sniffing in a somewhat less destructive way, physically if not economically. . . . As an addict, I am almost guiltily interested in converts to my own illness . . .
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Write one good clean sentence and put a period at the end of it. Then write another one.
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Cooks must feed their egos as well as their customers.
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All men are hungry. They always have been. They must eat, and when they deny themselves the pleasures of carrying out that need, they are cutting off part of their possible fullness, their natural realization of life, whether they are rich or poor.
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In spite of all the talk and study about our next years, all the silent ponderings about what lies within them...it seems plain to us that many things are wrong in the present ones that can be, must be, changed. Our texture of belief has great holes in it. Our pattern lacks pieces.
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There is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel, that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.
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For me, a plain baked potato is the most delicious one....It is soothing and enough.
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Too few of us, perhaps, feel that breaking of bread, the sharing of salt, the common dipping into one bowl, mean more than satisfaction of a need. We make such primal things as casual as tunes heard over a radio, forgetting the mystery and strength in both.
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At present, I myself do not know of any local witches or warlocks, but there are several people who seem to have an uncanny power over food.
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I notice that as I get rid of the protective covering of the middle years, I am more openly amused and incautious and less careful socially, and that all this makes for increasingly pleasant contacts with the world.
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One martini is just right. Two martinis are too many. Three martinis are never enough.
M. F. K. Fisher
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Most bereaved souls crave nourishment more tangible than prayers: they want a steak.
M. F. K. Fisher
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Wine and cheese are ageless companions, like aspirin and aches, or June and moon, or good people and noble ventures.
M. F. K. Fisher
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[Bachelors'] approach to gastronomy is basically sexual, since few of them under seventy-nine will bother to produce a good meal unless it is for a pretty woman.
M. F. K. Fisher
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But if I must be alone, I refuse to be alone as if it were something weak and distasteful, like convalescence.
M. F. K. Fisher
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...for me there is too little of life to spend most of it forcing myself into detachment from it.
M. F. K. Fisher
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It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others.
M. F. K. Fisher
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Salad is roughage and a French idea.
M. F. K. Fisher
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War is a beastly business, it is true, but one proof we are human is our ability to learn, even from it, how better to exist
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. . . gastronomical perfection can be reached in these combinations: one person dining alone, usually upon a couch or a hill side two people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good restaurant six people . . . dining in a good home.
M. F. K. Fisher