Unappetizing Food Quotes

The seafood in England is sad.

It was dog food. Beef livers with onions in a can. You open it up and it looks like vomit.

Broccoli, when overboiled, produces a sulfuric stench that causes children to gag the instant they enter the house.

My mother made a lot of things because she thought they'd be healthy for us. There were some very unfortunate experiences with whole wheat bread and bananas. I always tried to get rid of that sandwich and eat one of my friends' lunches.

I cook anything but chitlins.

What was the idea behind Hot Pockets? Was there a marketing meeting somewhere, 'Hey I got an idea: How about we take a Pop-Tart and fill it with really nasty meat? You could cook it in a sleeve thing, and you could dunk it in the toilet.'

Dutch food is terrible, I think. What sort of person starts the day with egg and cheese?

I'll never understand those greasy little deep-fried wings most bars serve.

I also avoid green vegetables. They're grossly overrated.

I simply cannot imagine why anyone would eat something slimy served in an ashtray.

The French fried potato has become an inescapable horror in almost every public eating place in the country. 'French fries', say the menus, but they are not French fries any longer. They are a furry-textured substance with the taste of plastic wood.

I've never tried fatback. Probably 'cause it's called fatback. I don't know which word creeps me out more: fat or back. Why don't they just throw in "hairy" while they're at it? "This is some delicious hairy fatback."

I don't know if I'd call it a favorite, but there was an entree in the rotation at my grade school cafeteria called 'Salisbury Steak' that was some kind of freestanding spongiform potage covered in a sauce that would probably have to be spelled 'grayvee' for legal reasons.

The average cooking in the average hotel for the average Englishman explains to a large extent the English bleakness and taciturnity. Nobody can beam and warble while chewing pressed beef smeared with diabolical mustard. Nobody can exult aloud while ungluing from his teeth a quivering tapioca pudding.

I burn a lot of stuff. My son, bless his heart, eats it anyway. But he makes a face!

I am a very bad cook.

Nothing worse than a piece of dried out fish.

Leh has few of what Europeans regard as travelling necessaries. The brick tea which I purchased from a Lhassa trader was disgusting. I afterwards understood that blood is used in making up the blocks. The flour was gritty, and a leg of mutton turned out to be a limb of a goat of much experience.

No matter where I've been overseas, the food stinks, except in Italy.

I love cake. I love pie. I love potato chips. I love salt. I do not want yogurt, plain yogurt. It's healthy. 'Why don't you like it?' Because it tastes like bad breath.

When I first went in, I realized there's no green vegetables. They serve, like, spinach once every two weeks. The three meals they serve inmates every day is like slop.

...the true spirit of gastronomic joylessness. Porridge fills the Englishman up, and prunes clear him out.

When I'm filming, survival requires movement. You need your energy, and you've got to eat the bad stuff, and survival food is rarely pretty, but you kind of do it. I get in that zone, and I eat the nasty stuff, but I'm not like that when I'm back home.

Swallow a toad in the morning and you will encounter nothing more disgusting the rest of the day.

I don't want to eat good anymore.