Flourishing vine, whose kindling clusters glow
Beneath the autumnal sun, none taste of thee:
For thou dost shroud a ruin, and below
The rotting bones of dead antiquity.
Wild Grapes
Nature Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
Spokes when he sees a roasted Pig, he swears
Nothing he loves on’t but the chaps and ears:
But carve to him the fat flanks; and he shall
Rid these, and those, and part by part eat all.
Committed
Food Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
Hot dogs are like strippers, really. Nobody wants to know the backstory. We don’t want to think about how they came to be in their present form of employment. “Well, when I was twelve, my stepfather..” “Not interested! Put some mustard on that.
– Jim Gaffigan, Food: A Love Story
ShotByNess 