Intrepid Optimist is the place where I can share my stories; fact, fiction and thoughts from the past and present. It’s Written by myself for people who believe adventure knows no age
It is sad to admit I no longer can I dine heavily at unusual hours, filling my stomach with the adolescent pleasure of hot curries and starchy pies – no longer, that is, no longer with immunity. No more can I say with any truth: “Oh yes, I can eat anything. I drink without it showing. I am made of iron.”
Now I am bemused by weird aches and tummy rumblings, and I shudder at the thought of being forced by old age to return to the diets of my infancy. Particularly so because over the years I have plumped up myself with such English delicacies as steak and kidney pudding, other savoury pies and rich desserts.
But I must grow old, and I must eat. It seems far from unreasonable, once the facts are accepted, for me to enjoy the pleasant task of educating my palate so I can do the former not grudgingly and in spite of the latter, but easily and agreeably because of it.
It was the crafty French diplomat, Talleyrand (Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord. 1754 – 1838) who said that two things were essential to life: to give good dinners and to keep on fair terms with women.
As the years pass and the fires will no doubt cool, it may not be so important to stay always on impartial terms with either women or with my fellow men, but thankfully a wide appreciation of fine flavours is still with me to keep my heart warm.
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