We all have hometown appetites. Every other person is a bundle of longing for the simplicities of good taste once enjoyed on the farm or in the hometown [he or she] left behind.

A tiny radish of passionate scarlet, tipped modestly in white.

Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where a backbone ought to be.

Beer is the Danish national drink, and the Danish national weakness is another beer.

[Chowder] breathes reassurance. It steams consolation.