"Let's eat if you don't mind. This is the sauce of all order."
----"Trimalchio's Feast", Petronius Arbiter, The Satyricon.
Dreary and glamorless the table fare of America stands. What, with
careerism and familial care, can a person do to refine the pleasures of
dining? Where can one, like Diogenes with the lamp, find a well made
meal without pawning the Silver Plate?
A travail it is to travel from table to table savoring only butter fat and
corn syrupy sugar. One bloats like a blowfish and cries, like the rich
Parisian suffering from indigestion to the starving beggar, "I would
happily trade places with you!" Indeed, the American palate has fallen
on hard times.
The answer is not an American one. One cannot buy refinement with
the Almighty Dollar. Distinction has to be exercised. Experimentation
must be mingled with delicacy. Then the American Palate will rise from
the depths of the Alpha and Omega of Salt and Sugar.
Where is the Muse of the Refined Table? Where have the Banquets
of yesteryear gone? Ecca Femina! Behold the Woman who takes this
heavy crown. A Queen no Lesser than the Queen of Sheba! Alone, she
wishes to introduce a weekly Symposium. Her Majesty's throne is a seat
at the refined table. The only Law is to serve your palate's pleasure.
Your Faithful Servant,