We’re regular meat eaters. No knickknacks, no borl nothn. Give me meat and biscuit three times a day year round and I’ll lof for ye ever day the sun shines.
You have to eat and keep going. Eating is a small, good thing in a time like this.
We ate everything there was to eat on the table. We ate like there was no tomorrow. We didn't talk. We ate. We scarfed. We grazed the table. We were into serious eating.
Food, to the indolent lounger, is poison, not sustenance.