‘Bald, overweight and gluttonous’ is how the American journalist and food writer A.J. Liebling described himself. Born in Manhattan in 1904, he wrote extensively about boxing and horse racing and was a war correspondent during the second world war, taking part in the Normandy landings in that capacity. He also recounted his gastronomic adventures in Paris before the war in Between Meals, a collection of essays largely derived from a four-part series, ‘Memoirs of a Feeder in France’, which ran in the New Yorker in 1959.
The sign of a good restaurant
might be seeing two priests or two ‘sporting girls’ eating together
As a gourmand (rather than a gourmet, a ‘snob word, and a silly one’), Liebling is dismissive of Proust’s madeleine, because the amount of brandy it contains ‘would not furnish a gnat with an alcohol rub’. In contrast, he writes approvingly about a chef who, while cooking ‘a choucroute, or sauerkraut, well garnie with pâté de foie gras, for three French senators… poured in a whole bottle of ancient cognac to improve the flavour’.

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