Word: diets
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...sigh for a lack of taste and sigh for too much ketchup and sigh for no more cigarettes sigh for biology sigh for bankers sigh for the good old days sigh for the future sigh with dispatch easily naturally inconspicuously oafishily amorally bitterly without emotion sigh on a diet sigh on a toot sigh in your undies sigh in your suit sigh at great concerts of geniuses sigh at baseball sigh at hunger and horror and fun but whatever you do don't let yourself be melancholy. Sigh...
...began a hunger strike at San Quentin. His specific grievance was his forced separation from other convicts on Death Row. The warden was unmoved. Under close medical observation, Robert Kennedy's convicted killer subsisted for more than two weeks on instant cocoa and coffee, plus his regular reading diet of Arab newspapers and Playboy...
UNTIL the great cyclamate furor bubbled over this fall, few Americans paid much heed to the minute lettering on their cakes and candy bars, diet drinks and instant dinners. Even a magnifying glass was little help in explaining those obscure polysyllables: propylene glycol, calcium silicate, butylated hydroxyanisole, sorbitan monostearate, methylparaben. Today, the portmanteau word for such substances is "additives"-which translates into myriad chemicals that have made even bread a laboratory product and the cheese spread to put on it a test-tube concoction...
...time.' Speaking for this Administration, I not only accept that responsibility, I claim the responsibility." In the same speech, however, Nixon betrayed a certain insensitivity in an anecdote that unwittingly underlined the vast gulf between the affluent and the hungry in America. Once when he went on a diet, Nixon told the meeting, "the doctor had told me to eat cottage cheese. The difficulty is that I don't like cottage cheese. I took his advice, but I put catsup on it." The catsup story did not go down well with the poor, whose problem is not dieting...
...Victoria Chess. I 15 pages. Meredith. $3.95. Having exhausted everything from aardvark fried in yak butter to zabaglione a zingari, the compilers of cookbooks have turned to something really occult. Bats, eye of newt, serpents, felon's hands and less mentionable exotica seem to have formed the staple diet of the industrious witch. It should be said that this book serves no culinary purpose except perhaps to divert conversation among guests from the infamous concoctions some contemporary witch may happen to be serving in the name-not of the devil but Julia Child...