Word: pork
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...throws open the kitchenette window, wanting the sour smell of greens and pork to sail away on a twilight breeze. Home. Home is. No complete sentence forms itself in her irritated mind. Her mind itching in the heat and odor of close living. Home is here, here is home; and it stinks. She is alone, and her life is somewhere else...
...really proper to call them men any more. "Shapes" is a better word-grotesque sculptures of scarred flesh and gnarled limbs. At lunch at the hospital, they eat rice, fried pork and bananas, and as their chopsticks dart from bowl to mouth, they seem almost normal-but they are not. When lunch is over, they do not stand up. Years of being shackled in the tiger cages have forced them into a permanent pretzel-like crouch. They move like crabs, skittering across the floor on buttocks and palms...
...told his father in Waterford, Conn., "I'd kill those bastards if I ever saw them again." He reported that he had been kept in solitary confinement for five months "in a bamboo cage full of ants and poisonous snakes." His diet, he said, was rice and pork fat, rationed at one bowl a day, plus some water...
...strict enforcement of the fiendishly exact regulations drawn up by the Belgian government and the EEC, concerning the quality of ingredients in food and beverage imports, something they seldom did in the days before Britain entered the EEC. Ronald Davidson, owner of Osborne House, has pleaded that the pork pies fit into the allowed category of pate en croute, that his sausages are really boudin blanc, and that Rose's Lime Juice is a permissible fruit extract. But the continental customs men-to whom a British delicacy is a contradiction in terms, anyway-have turned a deaf...
...genuine case," says one Dutch-born Eurocrat, "the British government can lodge a formal protest in Brussels." Formal protest notwithstanding, some of Davidson's customers have grown so desperate that they are bringing in their own vital supplies, raising the specter of a black market in pork pies and lime juice...