Elizabeth Robins Pennell,
The Feasts of Autolycus: The Diary of a Greedy Woman
“ Have ready thick slices of bread daintily arranged in a convenient dish; just before serving pour over them 104 the greater part of the unrivalled sauce, now gold and glorious with its saffron tint; pour the rest, with the fish, into another dish—a bowl, would you be quite correct—and let as few seconds as possible elapse between dishing this perfect work of art and eating it. Upon its smell alone man might live and thrive. Its colour is an inspiration to the painter, the subtlety of its flavour a text to the poet. ”
