Sausage Quotes
"At the table of a gentleman living in the Chausee d'Antin was served up an Arles sausage of enormous size. "Will you accept a slice?" the host asked a lady who was sitting next to him; "you see it has come from the right factory." -- "It is really very large," said the lady, casting on it a roguish glance; "What a pity it is unlike anything.""
Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin (1755-1826)
The Physiology of Taste (1825)
"Don't tie your dog to a leash of sausages."
French proverb
"What? Sunday morning in an English family and no sausages? God bless my soul, what's the world coming to, eh?"
Dorothy Sayers, British writer (1893-1957)
“A highbrow is the kind of person who looks at a sausage and thinks of Picasso.”
Alan Patrick Herbert, Sir (1890-1971); English journalist and writer; joined staff of Punch in 1924; The Highbrow
“Bologna is celebrated for producing popes, painters, and sausage.”
Lord Byron, British poet
“Doctor, do you think it could have been the sausage?”
Paul Claudel. French writer (1868-1955)
“....there are more different sausages in Germany than there are breakfast foods in America, and if there is a bad one among them then I have never heard of it. The run in size from little fellow so small and pale and fragile that it seems a crime to eat them to vast and formidable pieces that look like shells for heavy artillery. And they run in flavor from the most delicate to the most raucous, and in texture from that of feathers caught in a cobweb to that of linoleum, and in shape from straight cylinders to lovely kinks and curlycues. “
H.L. Mencken (1880-1956)
“At this moment I bit into one of my frankfurters, and -- Christ! i can't honestly say that I'd expected the thing to have a pleasant taste. I'd expected it to taste of nothing, like the roll. But this -- well, it was quite an experience. Let me try and describe it to you. The frankfurter had a rubber skin, of course, and my temporary teeth weren't much of a fit. I had to do a kind of sawing movement before I could get my teeth through the skin. And then suddenly -- pop! The thing burst in my mouth like a rotten pear. A sort of horrible soft stuff was oozing over my tongue. But the taste! For a moment I just couldn't believe it! Then i rolled my tongue around it again and had another try. It was fish! A sausage, a thing calling itself a frankfurter filled with fish! I got up and walked straight out without touching my coffee. God knows what that might have tasted of.”
George Orwell
“I devoured hot-dogs in Baltimore 'way back in 1886, and they were then very far from newfangled....They contained precisely the same rubber, indigestible pseudo-sausages that millions of Americans now eat, and they leaked the same flabby, puerile mustard. Their single point of difference lay in the fact that their covers were honest German Wecke made of wheat-flour baked to crispiness, and not the soggy rolls prevailing today, of ground acorns, plaster-of-Paris, flecks of bath-sponge, and atmospheric air all compact.”
H.L. Mencken (1880-1956)
American journalist and writer.
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