Word: fowl
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...could hardly fail to do considering the richness of the period. Even the statistics in such a book can be intriguing: the 800 mistresses of Niccolo d'Este, the Marquis of Ferrara (one cannot help wondering who counted them); the 2,000 oxen and 80,000 fowl reportedly consumed at the two-week wedding feast for Niccolo's son Leonello and Maria of Aragon; the 200 souls trampled to death in a traffic jam on Rome's Sant' Angelo bridge during the 1450 jubilee celebration...
Capon (who pronounces his name like that of the fowl) is not only a witty and urbane minister but a highly accomplished chef; his latest book, The Supper of the Lamb (Doubleday; $5.95), is currently one of the country's bestselling new volumes on cookery. It is, however, something more than a skillful dissertation on kitchen arts. As the religiously symbolic title indicates, Capon also offers the reader a gentle taste of theology-quite painless, and spiced with high humor and style...
Along with Gaston, he begins with such elementary procedures as how to lay out the hunt party's lunch, moves on to more sophisticated exercises like setting snares or stalking wild fowl with an artificial cow. One of the most charming illuminations illustrates the high art of camouflage. The huntsman, drawn in a simple wagon by a white palfrey, has concealed himself and the wagon behind leaves and branches...
...draws $55 a month for disability; the kids are good for $156 more in AFDC; a vegetable garden and a chicken coop housing about 30 Leghorns take care of the rest. There is a TV set in the shack, and a large fray-feathered fowl refrigerator stored with home-bottled pickles, beets, scallions and ? two weeks of the month ? spareribs or ham burger. Eb wryly remarks that there are advantages to blindness: it gives him an honorable excuse for being on the dole. Since the hardwoods were lumbered off and the deep coal mines virtually gutted...
...first he turned out light, brittle novels (signed "James Aston" to protect his teaching job), then a successful paste-up from his hunting and fishing diaries. His biographer, who never met him, overstates his seeming ease of production; in her portrait, he is an amiable but absent-mirded fowl who every now and then discovers that he has produced an egg. At any rate, in 1938, at the age of 32, White produced The Sword in the Stone, an evocation of "the 12th century or whenever it was," written as if remembered. It was without much question the best book...