A jelly-speck20, floating about at his ease in a drop of stagnant21 water under the field of a microscope, collides accidentally with another jelly-speck who happens to be travelling in the opposite direction across the same miniature ocean. What thereupon occurs? One jelly-speck rolls itself gradually into the other, so that, instead of two, there is now one; and the united body proceeds to float away quite unconcernedly, without waiting to trouble itself for a second with the profound metaphysical question, which half of it is the original personality, and which half the devoured22 and digested. In these minute and very simple animals there is absolutely no division of labour between part and part; every bit of the jelly-like mass is alike head and foot and mouth and stomach. The jelly-speck has no permanent limbs, but it keeps putting forth23 vague arms and legs every now and then from one side or the other; and with these temporary and ever-dissolving members it crawls along merrily through its tiny drop of stagnant water. If two of the legs or arms happen to knock up casually against one another, they coalesce8 at once, just like two drops of water on a window-pane, or two strings24 of treacle25 slowly spreading along the surface of a plate. When the jelly-speck meets any edible26 thing—a bit of dead plant, a wee creature like itself, a microscopic27 egg—it proceeds to fold its own substance slimily around it, making, as it were, a temporary mouth for the purpose of swallowing it, and a temporary stomach for the purpose of quietly digesting and assimilating it afterwards. Thus what at one moment is a foot may at the next moment become a mouth, and at the moment after that again a rudimentary stomach. The animal has no skin and no body, no outside and no inside, no distinction of parts or members, no individuality, no identity. Roll it up into one with another of its kind, and it couldn't tell you itself a minute afterwards which of the two it had really been a minute before. The question of personal identity is here considerably28 mixed.
But as soon as we get to rather larger creatures of the same type, the antithesis between the eater and the eaten begins to assume a more definite character. The big jelly-bag approaches a good many smaller jelly-bags, microscopic plants, and other appropriate food-stuffs, and, surrounding them rapidly with its crawling arms, envelopes them in its own substance, which closes behind them and gradually digests them. Everybody knows, by name at least, that revolutionary and evolutionary29 hero, the am?ba—the terror of theologians, the pet of professors, and the insufferable bore of the general reader. Well, this parlous30 and subversive31 little animal consists of a comparatively large mass of soft jelly, pushing forth slender lobes32, like threads or fingers, from its own substance, and gliding33 about, by means of these tiny legs, over water-plants and other submerged surfaces. But though it can literally turn itself inside out, like a glove, it still has some faint beginnings of a mouth and stomach, for it generally takes in food and absorbs water through a particular part of its surface, where the slimy mass of its body is thinnest. Thus the am?ba may be said really to eat and drink, though quite devoid34 of any special organs for eating or drinking.
The particular point to which I wish to draw attention here, however, is this: that even the very simplest and most primitive36 animals do discriminate37 somehow between what is eatable and what isn't. The am?ba has no eyes, no nose, no mouth, no tongue, no nerves of taste, no special means of discrimination of any kind; and yet, so long as it meets only grains of sand or bits of shell, it makes no effort in any way to swallow them; but, the moment it comes across a bit of material fit for its food, it begins at once to spread its clammy fingers around the nutritious38 morsel39. The fact is, every part of the am?ba's body apparently40 possesses, in a very vague form, the first beginnings of those senses which in us are specialised and confined to a single spot. And it is because of the light which the am?ba thus incidentally casts upon the nature of the specialised senses in higher animals that I have ventured once more to drag out of the private life of his native pond that already too notorious and obtrusive41 rhizopod.
With us lordly human beings, at the extreme opposite end in the scale of being from the microscopic jelly-specks, the art of feeding and the mechanism42 which provides for it have both reached a very high state of advanced perfection. We have slowly evolved a tongue and palate on the one hand, and French cooks and paté de foie gras on the other. But while everybody knows practically how things taste to us, and which things respectively we like and dislike, comparatively few people ever recognise that the sense of taste is not merely intended as a source of gratification, but serves a useful purpose in our bodily economy, in informing us what we ought to eat and what to refuse. Paradoxical as it may sound at first to most people, nice things are, in the main, things that are good for us, and nasty things are poisonous or otherwise injurious. That we often practically find the exact contrary the case (alas!) is due, not to the provisions of nature, but to the artificial surroundings in which we live, and to the cunning way in which we flavour up unwholesome food, so as to deceive and cajole the natural palate. Yet, after all, it is a pleasant gospel that what we like is really good for us, and, when we have made some small allowances for artificial conditions, it is in the main a true one also.
The sense of taste, which in the lowest animals is diffused44 equally over the whole frame, is in ourselves and other higher creatures concentrated in a special part of the body, namely the mouth, where the food about to be swallowed is chewed and otherwise prepared beforehand for the work of digestion46. Now it is, of course, quite clear that some sort of supervision47 must be exercised by the body over the kind of food that is going to be put into it. Common experience teaches us that prussic acid and pure opium48 are undesirable49 food-stuffs in large quantities; that raw spirits, petroleum50, and red lead should be sparingly partaken of by the judicious51 feeder; and that even green fruit, the bitter end of cucumber, and the berries of deadly nightshade are unsatisfactory articles of diet when continuously persisted in. If, at the very outset of our digestive apparatus52, we hadn't a sort of automatic premonitory adviser53 upon the kinds of food we ought or ought not to indulge in, we should naturally commit considerable imprudences in the way of eating and drinking—even more than we do at present. Natural selection has therefore provided us with a fairly efficient guide in this respect in the sense of taste, which is placed at the very threshold, as it were, of our digestive mechanism. It is the duty of taste to warn us against uneatable things, and to recommend to our favourable54 attention eatable and wholesome43 ones; and, on the whole, in spite of small occasional remissness55, it performs this duty with creditable success.
Taste, however, is not equally distributed over the whole surface of the tongue alike. There are three distinct regions or tracts56, each of which has to perform its own special office and function. The tip of the tongue is concerned mainly with pungent57 and acrid58 tastes; the middle portion is sensitive chiefly to sweets and bitters; while the back or lower portion confines itself almost entirely59 to the flavours of roast meats, butter, oils, and other rich or fatty substances. There are very good reasons for this subdivision of faculties60 in the tongue, the object being, as it were, to make each piece of food undergo three separate examinations (like 'smalls,' 'mods,' and 'greats' at Oxford), which must be successively passed before it is admitted into full participation61 in the human economy. The first examination, as we shall shortly see, gets rid at once of substances which would be actively62 and immediately destructive to the very tissues of the mouth and body; the second discriminates64 between poisonous and chemically harmless food-stuffs; and the third merely decides the minor65 question whether the particular food is likely to prove then and there wholesome or indigestible to the particular person. The sense of taste proceeds, in fact, upon the principle of gradual selection and elimination66; it refuses first what is positively67 destructive, next what is more remotely deleterious, and finally what is only undesirable or over-luscious68.
When we want to assure ourselves, by means of taste, about any unknown object—say a lump of some white stuff, which may be crystal, or glass, or alum, or borax, or quartz69, or rocksalt—we put the tip of the tongue against it gingerly. If it begins to burn us, we draw it away more or less rapidly with an accompaniment in language strictly71 dependent upon our personal habits and manners. The test we thus occasionally apply, even in the civilised adult state, to unknown bodies is one that is being applied72 every day and all day long by children and savages74. Unsophisticated humanity is constantly putting everything it sees up to its mouth in a frank spirit of experimental inquiry75 as to its gustatory properties. In civilised life we find everything ready labelled and assorted76 for us; we comparatively seldom require to roll the contents of a suspicious bottle (in very small quantities) doubtfully upon the tongue in order to discover whether it is pale sherry or Chili77 vinegar, Dublin stout78 or mushroom ketchup79. But in the savage73 state, from which, geologically and biologically speaking, we have only just emerged, bottles and labels do not exist. Primitive man, therefore, in his sweet simplicity80, has only two modes open before him for deciding whether the things he finds are or are not strictly edible. The first thing he does is to sniff81 at them; and smell, being, as Mr. Herbert Spencer has well put it, an anticipatory82 taste, generally gives him some idea of what the thing is likely to prove. The second thing he does is to pop it into his mouth, and proceed practically to examine its further characteristics.
Strictly speaking, with the tip of the tongue one can't really taste at all. If you put a small drop of honey or of oil of bitter almonds on that part of the mouth, you will find (no doubt to your great surprise) that it produces no effect of any sort; you only taste it when it begins slowly to diffuse45 itself, and reaches the true tasting region in the middle distance. But if you put a little cayenne or mustard on the same part, you will find that it bites you immediately—the experiment should be tried sparingly—while if you put it lower down in the mouth you will swallow it almost without noticing the pungency83 of the stimulant84. The reason is, that the tip of the tongue is supplied only with nerves which are really nerves of touch, not nerves of taste proper; they belong to a totally different main branch, and they go to a different centre in the brain, together with the very similar threads which supply the nerves of smell for mustard and pepper. That is why the smell and taste of these pungent substances are so much alike, as everybody must have noticed, a good sniff at a mustard-pot producing almost the same irritating effects as an incautious mouthful. As a rule we don't accurately85 distinguish, it is true, between these different regions of taste in the mouth in ordinary life; but that is because we usually roll our food about instinctively86, without paying much attention to the particular part affected87 by it. Indeed, when one is trying deliberate experiments in the subject, in order to test the varying sensitiveness of the different parts to different substances, it is necessary to keep the tongue quite dry, in order to isolate88 the thing you are experimenting with, and prevent its spreading to all parts of the mouth together. In actual practice this result is obtained in a rather ludicrous manner—by blowing upon the tongue, between each experiment, with a pair of bellows89. To such undignified expedients90 does the pursuit of science lead the ardent91 modern psychologist. Those domestic rivals of Dr. Forbes Winslow, the servants, who behold92 the enthusiastic investigator93 alternately drying his tongue in this ridiculous fashion, as if he were a blacksmith's fire, and then squeezing out a single drop of essence of pepper, vinegar, or beef-tea from a glass syringe upon the dry surface, not unnaturally94 arrive at the conclusion that master has gone stark96 mad, and that, in their private opinion, it's the microscope and the skeleton as has done it.
Above all things, we don't want to be flayed97 alive. So the kinds of tastes discriminated98 by the tip of the tongue are the pungent, like pepper, cayenne and mustard; the astringent99, like borax and alum; the alkaline, like soda100 and potash; the acid, like vinegar and green fruit; and the saline, like salt and ammonia. Almost all the bodies likely to give rise to such tastes (or, more correctly, sensations of touch in the tongue) are obviously unwholesome and destructive in their character, at least when taken in large quantities. Nobody wishes to drink nitric acid by the quart. The first business of this part of the tongue is, therefore, to warn us emphatically against caustic101 substances and corrosive102 acids, against vitriol and kerosene103, spirits of wine and ether, capsicums and burning leaves or roots, such as those of the common English lords-and-ladies. Things of this sort are immediately destructive to the very tissues of the tongue and palate; if taken incautiously in too large doses, they burn the skin off the roof of the mouth; and when swallowed they play havoc104, of course, with our internal arrangements. It is highly advisable, therefore, to have an immediate63 warning of these extremely dangerous substances, at the very outset of our feeding apparatus.
This kind of taste hardly differs from touch or burning. The sensibility of the tip of the tongue is only a very slight modification105 of the sensibility possessed106 by the skin generally, and especially by the inner folds over all delicate parts of the body. We all know that common caustic burns us wherever it touches; and it burns the tongue only in a somewhat more marked manner. Nitric or sulphuric acid attacks the fingers each after its own kind. A mustard plaster makes us tingle108 almost immediately; and the action of mustard on the tongue hardly differs, except in being more instantaneous and more discriminative109. Cantharides work in just the same way. If you cut a red pepper in two and rub it on your neck, it will sting just as it does when put into soup (this experiment, however, is best tried upon one's younger brother; if made personally, it hardly repays the trouble and annoyance). Even vinegar and other acids, rubbed into the skin, are followed by a slight tingling110; while the effect of brandy, applied, say, to the arms, is gently stimulating111 and pleasurable, somewhat in the same way as when normally swallowed in conjunction with the habitual112 seltzer. In short, most things which give rise to distinct tastes when applied to the tip of the tongue give rise to fainter sensations when applied to the skin generally. And one hardly needs to be reminded that pepper or vinegar placed (accidentally as a rule) on the inner surface of the eyelids113 produces a very distinct and unpleasant smart.
The fact is, the liability to be chemically affected by pungent or acid bodies is common to every part of the skin; but it is least felt where the tough outer skin is thickest, and most felt where that skin is thinnest, and the nerves are most plentifully115 distributed near the surface. A mustard plaster would probably fail to draw at all on one's heel or the palm of one's hand; while it is decidedly painful on one's neck or chest; and a mere speck of mustard inside the eyelid114 gives one positive torture for hours together. Now, the tip of the tongue is just a part of one's body specially107 set aside for this very object, provided with an extremely thin skin, and supplied with an immense number of nerves, on purpose so as to be easily affected by all such pungent, alkaline, or spirituous substances. Sir Wilfrid Lawson would probably conclude that it was deliberately117 designed by Providence118 to warn us against a wicked indulgence in the brandy and seltzer aforesaid.
At first sight it might seem as though there were hardly enough of such pungent and fiery119 things in existence to make it worth while for us to be provided with a special mechanism for guarding against them. That is true enough, no doubt, as regards our modern civilised life; though, even now, it is perhaps just as well that our children should have an internal monitor (other than conscience) to dissuade120 them immediately from indiscriminate indulgence in photographic chemicals, the contents of stray medicine bottles, and the best dried West India chilies121. But in an earlier period of progress, and especially in tropical countries (where the Darwinians have now decided116 the human race made its first début upon this or any other stage), things were very different indeed. Pungent and poisonous plants and fruits abounded122 on every side. We have all of us in our youth been taken in by some too cruelly waggish123 companion, who insisted upon making us eat the bright, glossy124 leaves of the common English arum, which without look pretty and juicy enough, but within are full of the concentrated essence of pungency and profanity. Well, there are hundreds of such plants, even in cold climates, to tempt125 the eyes and poison the veins126 of unsuspecting cattle or childish humanity. There is buttercup, so horribly acrid that cows carefully avoid it in their closest cropped pastures; and yet your cow is not usually a too dainty animal. There is aconite, the deadly poison with which Dr. Lamson removed his troublesome relatives. There is baneberry, whose very name sufficiently127 describes its dangerous nature. There are horse-radish, and stinging rocket, and biting wall-pepper, and still smarter water-pepper, and worm-wood, and nightshade, and spurge, and hemlock128, and half a dozen other equally unpleasant weeds. All of these have acquired their pungent and poisonous properties, just as nettles129 have acquired their sting, and thistles their thorns, in order to prevent animals from browsing130 upon them and destroying them. And the animals in turn have acquired a very delicate sense of pungency on purpose to warn them beforehand of the existence of such dangerous and undesirable qualities in the plants which they might otherwise be tempted131 incautiously to swallow.
In tropical woods, where our 'hairy quadrumanous ancestor' (Darwinian for the prim35?val monkey, from whom we are presumably descended) used playfully to disport132 himself, as yet unconscious of his glorious destiny as the remote progenitor133 of Shakespeare, Milton, and the late Mr. Peace—in tropical woods, such acrid or pungent fruits and plants are particularly common, and correspondingly annoying. The fact is, our primitive forefather134 and all the other monkeys are, or were, confirmed fruit-eaters. But to guard against their depredations135 a vast number of tropical fruits and nuts have acquired disagreeable or fiery rinds and shells, which suffice to deter136 the bold aggressor. It may not be nice to get your tongue burnt with a root or fruit, but it is at least a great deal better than getting poisoned; and, roughly speaking, pungency in external nature exactly answers to the rough gaudy137 labels which some chemists paste on bottles containing poisons. It means to say, 'This fruit or leaf, if you eat it in any quantities, will kill you.' That is the true explanation of capsicums, pimento, colocynth, croton oil, the upas tree, and the vast majority of bitter, acrid, or fiery fruits and leaves. If we had to pick up our own livelihood138, as our naked ancestors had to do, from roots, seeds, and berries, we should far more readily appreciate this simple truth. We should know that a great many more plants than we now suspect are bitter or pungent, and therefore poisonous. Even in England we are familiar enough with such defences as those possessed by the outer rind of the walnut139; but the tropical cashew-nut has a rind so intensely acrid that it blisters140 the lips and fingers instantaneously, in the same way as cantharides would do. I believe that on the whole, taking nature throughout, more fruits and nuts are poisonous, or intensely bitter, or very fiery, than are sweet, luscious, and edible.
'But,' says that fidgety person, the hypothetical objector (whom one always sets up for the express purpose of promptly141 knocking him down again), 'if it be the business of the fore2 part of the tongue to warn us against pungent and acrid substances, how comes it that we purposely use such things as mustard, pepper, curry142-powder, and vinegar?' Well, in themselves all these things are, strictly speaking, bad for us; but in small quantities they act as agreeable stimulants143; and we take care in preparing most of them to get rid of the most objectionable properties. Moreover, we use them, not as foods, but merely as condiments145. One drop of oil of capsicums is enough to kill a man, if taken undiluted; but in actual practice we buy it in such a very diluted147 form that comparatively little harm arises from using it. Still, very young children dislike all these violent stimulants, even in small quantities; they won't touch mustard, pepper, or vinegar, and they recoil148 at once from wine or spirits. It is only by slow degrees that we learn these unnatural95 tastes, as our nerves get blunted and our palates jaded149; and we all know that the old Indian who can eat nothing but dry curries150, devilled biscuits, anchovy151 paste, pepper-pot, mulligatawny soup, Worcestershire sauce, preserved ginger70, hot pickles152, fiery sherry, and neat cognac, is also a person with no digestion, a fragmentary liver, and very little chance of getting himself accepted by any safe and solvent153 insurance office. Throughout, the warning in itself is a useful one; it is we who foolishly and persistently154 disregard it. Alcohol, for example, tells us at once that it is bad for us; yet we manage so to dress it up with flavouring matters and dilute146 it with water that we overlook the fiery character of the spirit itself. But that alcohol is in itself a bad thing (when freely indulged in) has been so abundantly demonstrated in the history of mankind that it hardly needs any further proof.
The middle region of the tongue is the part with which we experience sensations of taste proper—that is to say, of sweetness and bitterness. In a healthy, natural state all sweet things are pleasant to us, and all bitters (even if combined with sherry) unpleasant. The reason for this is easy enough to understand. It carries us back at once into those prim?val tropical forests, where our 'hairy ancestor' used to diet himself upon the fruits of the earth in due season. Now, almost all edible fruits, roots, and tubers contain sugar; and therefore the presence of sugar is, in the wild condition, as good a rough test of whether anything is good to eat as one could easily find. In fact, the argument cuts both ways: edible fruits are sweet because they are intended for man and other animals to eat; and man and other animals have a tongue pleasurably affected by sugar because sugary things in nature are for them in the highest degree edible. Our early progenitors155 formed their taste upon oranges, mangoes, bananas, and grapes; upon sweet potatoes, sugar-cane156, dates, and wild honey. There is scarcely anything fitted for human food in the vegetable world (and our earliest ancestors were most undoubted vegetarians) which does not contain sugar in considerable quantities. In temperate158 climates (where man is but a recent intruder), we have taken, it is true, to regarding wheaten bread as the staff of life; but in our native tropics enormous populations still live almost exclusively upon plantains, bananas, bread-fruit, yams, sweet potatoes, dates, cocoanuts, melons, cassava, pine-apples, and figs159. Our nerves have been adapted to the circumstances of our early life as a race in tropical forests; and we still retain a marked liking160 for sweets of every sort. Not content with our strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, currants, apples, pears, cherries, plums and other northern fruits, we ransack161 the world for dates, figs, raisins162, and oranges. Indeed, in spite of our acquired meat-eating propensities163, it may be fairly said that fruits and seeds (including wheat, rice, peas, beans, and other grains and pulse) still form by far the most important element in the food-stuffs of human populations generally.
But besides the natural sweets, we have also taken to producing artificial ones. Has any housewife ever realised the alarming condition of cookery in the benighted164 generations before the invention of sugar? It is really almost too appalling165 to think about. So many things that we now look upon as all but necessaries—cakes, puddings, made dishes, confectionery, preserves, sweet biscuits, jellies, cooked fruits, tarts166, and so forth—were then practically quite impossible. Fancy attempting nowadays to live a single day without sugar; no tea, no coffee, no jam, no pudding, no cake, no sweets, no hot toddy before one goes to bed; the bare idea of it is too terrible. And yet that was really the abject167 condition of all the civilised world up to the middle of the middle ages. Horace's punch was sugarless and lemonless; the gentle Virgil never tasted the congenial cup of afternoon tea; and Socrates went from his cradle to his grave without ever knowing the flavour of peppermint168 bull's eyes. How the children managed to spend their Saturday as, or their weekly obolus, is a profound mystery. To be sure, people had honey; but honey is rare, dear, and scanty169; it can never have filled one quarter the place that sugar fills in our modern affections. Try for a moment to realise drinking honey with one's whisky-and-water, or doing the year's preserving with a pot of best Narbonne, and you get at once a common measure of the difference between the two as practical sweeteners. Nowadays, we get sugar from cane and beet-root in abundance, while sugar-maples and palm-trees of various sorts afford a considerable supply to remoter countries. But the childhood of the little Greeks and Romans must have been absolutely unlighted by a single ray of joy from chocolate creams or Everton toffee.
The consequence of this excessive production of sweets in modern times is, of course, that we have begun to distrust the indications afforded us by the sense of taste in this particular as to the wholesomeness170 of various objects. We can mix sugar with anything we like, whether it had sugar in it to begin with or otherwise; and by sweetening and flavouring we can give a false palatableness to even the worst and most indigestible rubbish, such as plaster-of-Paris, largely sold under the name of sugared almonds to the ingenuous171 youth of two hemispheres. But in untouched nature the test rarely or never fails. As long as fruits are unripe172 and unfit for human food, they are green and sour; as soon as they ripen173 they become soft and sweet, and usually acquire some bright colour as a sort of advertisement of their edibility174. In the main, bar the accidents of civilisation175, whatever is sweet is good to eat—nay more, is meant to be eaten; it is only our own perverse176 folly177 that makes us sometimes think all nice things bad for us, and all wholesome things nasty. In a state of nature, the exact opposite is really the case. One may observe, too, that children, who are literally young savages in more senses than one, stand nearer to the primitive feeling in this respect than grown-up people. They unaffectedly like sweets; adults, who have grown more accustomed to the artificial meat diet, don't, as a rule, care much for puddings, cakes, and made dishes. (May I venture parenthetically to add, any appearance to the contrary notwithstanding, that I am not a vegetarian157, and that I am far from desiring to bring down upon my devoted178 head the imprecation pronounced against the rash person who would rob a poor man of his beer. It is quite possible to believe that vegetarianism179 was the starting point of the race, without wishing to consider it also as the goal; just as it is quite possible to regard clothes as purely artificial products of civilisation, without desiring personally to return to the charming simplicity of the Garden of Eden.)
Bitter things in nature at large, on the contrary, are almost invariably poisonous. Strychnia, for example, is intensely bitter, and it is well known that life cannot be supported on strychnia alone for more than a few hours. Again, colocynth and aloes are far from being wholesome food stuffs, for a continuance; and the bitter end of cucumber does not conduce to the highest standard of good living. The bitter matter in decaying apples is highly injurious when swallowed, which it isn't likely to be by anybody who ever tastes it. Wormwood and walnut-shells contain other bitter and poisonous principles; absinthe, which is made from one of them, is a favourite slow poison with the fashionable young men of Paris, who wish to escape prematurely180 from 'Le monde où l'on s'ennuie.' But prussic acid is the commonest component181 in all natural bitters, being found in bitter almonds, apple pips, the kernels182 of mangosteens, and many other seeds and fruits. Indeed, one may say roughly that the object of nature generally is to prevent the actual seeds of edible fruits from being eaten and digested; and for this purpose, while she stores the pulp184 with sweet juices, she encloses the seed itself in hard stony185 coverings, and makes it nasty with bitter essences. Eat an orange-pip, and you will promptly observe how effectual is this arrangement. As a rule, the outer rind of nuts is bitter, and the inner kernel183 of edible fruits. The tongue thus warns us immediately against bitter things, as being poisonous, and prevents us automatically from swallowing them.
'But how is it,' asks our objector again, 'that so many poisons are tasteless, or even, like sugar of lead, pleasant to the palate?' The answer is (you see, we knock him down again, as usual) because these poisons are themselves for the most part artificial products; they do not occur in a state of nature, at least in man's ordinary surroundings. Almost every poisonous thing that we are really liable to meet with in the wild state we are warned against at once by the sense of taste; but of course it would be absurd to suppose that natural selection could have produced a mode of warning us against poisons which have never before occurred in human experience. One might just as well expect that it should have rendered us dynamite-proof, or have given us a skin like the hide of a rhinoceros186 to protect us against the future contingency187 of the invention of rifles.
Sweets and bitters are really almost the only tastes proper, almost the only ones discriminated by this central and truly gustatory region of the tongue and palate. Most so-called flavourings will be found on strict examination to be nothing more than mixtures with these of certain smells, or else of pungent, salty, or alkaline matters, distinguished188 as such by the tip of the tongue. For instance, paradoxical as it sounds to say so, cinnamon has really no taste at all, but only a smell. Nobody will ever believe this on first hearing, but nothing on earth is easier than to put it to the test. Take a small piece of cinnamon, hold your nose tightly, rather high up, between the thumb and finger, and begin chewing it. You will find that it is absolutely tasteless; you are merely chewing a perfectly189 insipid190 bit of bark. Then let go your nose, and you will find immediately that it 'tastes' strongly, though in reality it is only the perfume from it that you now permit to rise into the smelling-chamber in the nose. So, again, cloves191 have only a pungent taste and a peculiar192 smell, and the same is the case more or less with almost all distinctive193 flavourings. When you come to find of what they are made up, they consist generally of sweets or bitters, intermixed with certain ethereal perfumes, or with pungent or acid tastes, or with both or several such together. In this way, a comparatively small number of original elements, variously combined, suffice to make up the whole enormous mass of recognisably different tastes and flavours.
The third and lowest part of the tongue and throat is the seat of those peculiar tastes to which Professor Bain, the great authority upon this important philosophical194 subject, has given the names of relishes196 and disgusts. It is here, chiefly, that we taste animal food, fats, butters, oils, and the richer class of vegetables and made dishes. If we like them, we experience a sensation which may be called a relish195, and which induces one to keep rolling the morsel farther down the throat, till it passes at last beyond the region of our voluntary control. If we don't like them, we get the sensation which may be called a disgust, and which is very different from the mere unpleasantness of excessively pungent or bitter things. It is far less of an intellectual and far more of a physical and emotional feeling. We say, and say rightly, of such things that we find it hard to swallow them; a something within us (of a very tangible197 nature) seems to rise up bodily and protest against them. As a very good example of this experience, take one's first attempt to swallow cod198-liver oil. Other things may be unpleasant or unpalatable, but things of this class are in the strictest sense nasty and disgusting.
The fact is, the lower part of the tongue is supplied with nerves in close sympathy with the digestion. If the food which has been passed by the two previous examiners is found here to be simple and digestible, it is permitted to go on unchallenged; if it is found to be too rich, too bilious199, or too indigestible, a protest is promptly entered against it, and if we are wise we will immediately desist from eating any more of it. It is here that the impartial200 tribunal of nature pronounces definitely against roast goose, mince201 pies, paté de foie gras, sally lunn, muffins and crumpets, and creamy puddings. It is here, too, that the slightest taint202 in meat, milk, or butter is immediately detected; that rancid pastry203 from the pastrycook's is ruthlessly exposed; and that the wiles204 of the fishmonger are set at naught205 by the judicious palate. It is the special duty, in fact, of this last examiner to discover, not whether food is positively destructive, not whether it is poisonous or deleterious in nature, but merely whether it is then and there digestible or undesirable.
As our state of health varies greatly from time to time, however, so do the warnings of this last sympathetic adviser change and flicker206. Sweet things are always sweet, and bitter things always bitter; vinegar is always sour, and ginger always hot in the mouth, too, whatever our state of health or feeling. But our taste for roast loin of mutton, high game, salmon207 cutlets, and Gorgonzola cheese varies immensely from time to time, with the passing condition of our health and digestion. In illness, and especially in sea-sickness, one gets the distaste carried to the extreme: you may eat grapes or suck an orange in the chops of the Channel, but you do not feel warmly attached to the steward209 who offers you a basin of greasy210 ox-tail, or consoles you with promises of ham sandwiches in half a minute. Under those two painful conditions it is the very light, fresh, and stimulating things that one can most easily swallow—champagne, soda-water, strawberries, peaches; not lobster211 salad, sardines212 on toast, green Chartreuse, or hot brandy-and-water. On the other hand, in robust213 health, and when hungry with exercise, you can eat fat pork with relish on a Scotch214 hillside, or dine off fresh salmon three days running without inconvenience. Even a Spanish stew208, with plenty of garlic in it, and floating in olive oil, tastes positively delicious after a day's mountaineering in the Pyrenees.
The healthy popular belief, still surviving in spite of cookery, that our likes and dislikes are the best guide to what is good for us, finds its justification215 in this fact, that whatever is relished216 will prove on the average wholesome, and whatever rouses disgust will prove on the whole indigestible. Nothing can be more wrong, for example, than to make children eat fat when they don't want it. A healthy child likes fat, and eats as much of it as he can get. If a child shows signs of disgust at fat, that proves that it is of a bilious temperament217, and it ought never to be forced into eating it against its will. Most of us are bilious in after-life just because we were compelled to eat rich food in childhood, which we felt instinctively was unsuitable for us. We might still be indulging with impunity218 in thick turtle, canvas-back ducks, devilled whitebait, meringues, and Nesselrode puddings, if we hadn't been so persistently overdosed in our earlier years with things that we didn't want and knew were indigestible.
Of course, in our existing modern cookery, very few simple and uncompounded tastes are still left to us; everything is so mixed up together that only by an effort of deliberate experiment can one discover what are the special effects of special tastes upon the tongue and palate. Salt is mixed with almost everything we eat—sal sapit omnia—and pepper or cayenne is nearly equally common. Butter is put into the peas, which have been previously219 adulterated by being boiled with mint; and cucumber is unknown except in conjunction with oil and vinegar. This makes it comparatively difficult for us to realise the distinctness of the elements which go to make up most tastes as we actually experience them. Moreover, a great many eatable objects have hardly any taste of their own, properly speaking, but only a feeling of softness, or hardness, or glutinousness221 in the mouth, mainly observed in the act of chewing them. For example, plain boiled rice is almost wholly insipid; but even in its plainest form salt has usually been boiled with it, and in practice we generally eat it with sugar, preserves, curry, or some other strongly flavoured condiment144. Again, plain boiled tapioca and sago (in water) are as nearly tasteless as anything can be; they merely yield a feeling of gumminess; but milk, in which they are oftenest cooked, gives them a relish (in the sense here restricted), and sugar, eggs, cinnamon, or nutmeg are usually added by way of flavouring. Even turbot has hardly any taste proper, except in the glutinous220 skin, which has a faint relish; the epicure222 values it rather because of its softness, its delicacy223, and its light flesh. Gelatine by itself is merely very swallowable; we must mix sugar, wine, lemon-juice, and other flavourings in order to make it into good jelly. Salt, spices, essences, vanilla224, vinegar, pickles, capers225, ketchups, sauces, chutneys, lime-juice, curry, and all the rest, are just our civilised expedients for adding the pleasure of pungency and acidity226 to naturally insipid foods, by stimulating the nerves of touch in the tongue, just as sugar is our tribute to the pure gustatory sense, and oil, butter, bacon, lard, and the various fats used in frying to the sense of relish which forms the last element in our compound taste. A boiled sole is all very well when one is just convalescent, but in robust health we demand the delights of egg and bread-crumb, which are after all only the vehicle for the appetising grease. Plain boiled macaroni may pass muster227 in the unsophisticated nursery, but in the pampered228 dining-room it requires the aid of toasted parmesan. Good modern cookery is the practical result of centuries of experience in this direction; the final flower of ages of evolution, devoted to the equalisation of flavours in all human food. Think of the generations of fruitless experiment that must have passed before mankind discovered that mint sauce (itself a cunning compound of vinegar and sugar) ought to be eaten with leg of lamb, that roast goose required a corrective in the shape of apple, and that while a pre-established harmony existed between salmon and lobster, oysters229 were ordained230 beforehand by nature as the proper accompaniment of boiled cod. Whenever I reflect upon such things, I become at once a good Positivist, and offer up praise in my own private chapel231 to the Spirit of Humanity which has slowly perfected these profound rules of good living.
点击收听单词发音
1 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 fore | |
adv.在前面;adj.先前的;在前部的;n.前部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 grizzly | |
adj.略为灰色的,呈灰色的;n.灰色大熊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 antithesis | |
n.对立;相对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 oyster | |
n.牡蛎;沉默寡言的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 coalesce | |
v.联合,结合,合并 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 coalescence | |
n.合并,联合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 nascent | |
adj.初生的,发生中的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 metaphorical | |
a.隐喻的,比喻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 litigants | |
n.诉讼当事人( litigant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 chattels | |
n.动产,奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 vanquished | |
v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 );战胜;克服;抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 physically | |
adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 speck | |
n.微粒,小污点,小斑点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 stagnant | |
adj.不流动的,停滞的,不景气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 devoured | |
吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 strings | |
n.弦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 treacle | |
n.糖蜜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 edible | |
n.食品,食物;adj.可食用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 microscopic | |
adj.微小的,细微的,极小的,显微的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 evolutionary | |
adj.进化的;演化的,演变的;[生]进化论的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 parlous | |
adj.危险的,不确定的,难对付的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 subversive | |
adj.颠覆性的,破坏性的;n.破坏份子,危险份子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 lobes | |
n.耳垂( lobe的名词复数 );(器官的)叶;肺叶;脑叶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 prim | |
adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 discriminate | |
v.区别,辨别,区分;有区别地对待 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 nutritious | |
adj.有营养的,营养价值高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 morsel | |
n.一口,一点点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 obtrusive | |
adj.显眼的;冒失的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 mechanism | |
n.机械装置;机构,结构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 diffused | |
散布的,普及的,扩散的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 diffuse | |
v.扩散;传播;adj.冗长的;四散的,弥漫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 digestion | |
n.消化,吸收 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 supervision | |
n.监督,管理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 opium | |
n.鸦片;adj.鸦片的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 undesirable | |
adj.不受欢迎的,不良的,不合意的,讨厌的;n.不受欢迎的人,不良分子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 petroleum | |
n.原油,石油 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 apparatus | |
n.装置,器械;器具,设备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 adviser | |
n.劝告者,顾问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 remissness | |
n.玩忽职守;马虎;怠慢;不小心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 tracts | |
大片土地( tract的名词复数 ); 地带; (体内的)道; (尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的)短文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 pungent | |
adj.(气味、味道)刺激性的,辛辣的;尖锐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 acrid | |
adj.辛辣的,尖刻的,刻薄的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 faculties | |
n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 participation | |
n.参与,参加,分享 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 actively | |
adv.积极地,勤奋地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 discriminates | |
分别,辨别,区分( discriminate的第三人称单数 ); 歧视,有差别地对待 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 elimination | |
n.排除,消除,消灭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 luscious | |
adj.美味的;芬芳的;肉感的,引与性欲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 quartz | |
n.石英 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 ginger | |
n.姜,精力,淡赤黄色;adj.淡赤黄色的;vt.使活泼,使有生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 savages | |
未开化的人,野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 assorted | |
adj.各种各样的,各色俱备的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 chili | |
n.辣椒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 ketchup | |
n.蕃茄酱,蕃茄沙司 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 sniff | |
vi.嗅…味道;抽鼻涕;对嗤之以鼻,蔑视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 anticipatory | |
adj.预想的,预期的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 pungency | |
n.(气味等的)刺激性;辣;(言语等的)辛辣;尖刻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 stimulant | |
n.刺激物,兴奋剂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 instinctively | |
adv.本能地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 isolate | |
vt.使孤立,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 bellows | |
n.风箱;发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的名词复数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的第三人称单数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 expedients | |
n.应急有效的,权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 investigator | |
n.研究者,调查者,审查者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 unnaturally | |
adv.违反习俗地;不自然地;勉强地;不近人情地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 unnatural | |
adj.不自然的;反常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 flayed | |
v.痛打( flay的过去式和过去分词 );把…打得皮开肉绽;剥(通常指动物)的皮;严厉批评 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 discriminated | |
分别,辨别,区分( discriminate的过去式和过去分词 ); 歧视,有差别地对待 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 astringent | |
adj.止血的,收缩的,涩的;n.收缩剂,止血剂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 soda | |
n.苏打水;汽水 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 caustic | |
adj.刻薄的,腐蚀性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 corrosive | |
adj.腐蚀性的;有害的;恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 kerosene | |
n.(kerosine)煤油,火油 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 havoc | |
n.大破坏,浩劫,大混乱,大杂乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 modification | |
n.修改,改进,缓和,减轻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 tingle | |
vi.感到刺痛,感到激动;n.刺痛,激动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 discriminative | |
有判别力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 tingling | |
v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 stimulating | |
adj.有启发性的,能激发人思考的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 habitual | |
adj.习惯性的;通常的,惯常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 eyelid | |
n.眼睑,眼皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 plentifully | |
adv. 许多地,丰饶地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 dissuade | |
v.劝阻,阻止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 chilies | |
n.红辣椒( chili的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 abounded | |
v.大量存在,充满,富于( abound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 waggish | |
adj.诙谐的,滑稽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 glossy | |
adj.平滑的;有光泽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 tempt | |
vt.引诱,勾引,吸引,引起…的兴趣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 hemlock | |
n.毒胡萝卜,铁杉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 nettles | |
n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 browsing | |
v.吃草( browse的现在分词 );随意翻阅;(在商店里)随便看看;(在计算机上)浏览信息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 disport | |
v.嬉戏,玩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 progenitor | |
n.祖先,先驱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 forefather | |
n.祖先;前辈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 depredations | |
n.劫掠,毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 deter | |
vt.阻止,使不敢,吓住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 gaudy | |
adj.华而不实的;俗丽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 livelihood | |
n.生计,谋生之道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 blisters | |
n.水疱( blister的名词复数 );水肿;气泡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 curry | |
n.咖哩粉,咖哩饭菜;v.用咖哩粉调味,用马栉梳,制革 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 stimulants | |
n.兴奋剂( stimulant的名词复数 );含兴奋剂的饮料;刺激物;激励物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 condiment | |
n.调味品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 condiments | |
n.调味品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 dilute | |
vt.稀释,冲淡;adj.稀释的,冲淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 diluted | |
无力的,冲淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 recoil | |
vi.退却,退缩,畏缩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 jaded | |
adj.精疲力竭的;厌倦的;(因过饱或过多而)腻烦的;迟钝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 curries | |
n.咖喱食品( curry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 anchovy | |
n.凤尾鱼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 pickles | |
n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 );处于困境;遇到麻烦;菜酱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 solvent | |
n.溶剂;adj.有偿付能力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 persistently | |
ad.坚持地;固执地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 progenitors | |
n.祖先( progenitor的名词复数 );先驱;前辈;原本 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 cane | |
n.手杖,细长的茎,藤条;v.以杖击,以藤编制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 vegetarian | |
n.素食者;adj.素食的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 temperate | |
adj.温和的,温带的,自我克制的,不过分的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 figs | |
figures 数字,图形,外形 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 ransack | |
v.彻底搜索,洗劫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 raisins | |
n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 propensities | |
n.倾向,习性( propensity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 benighted | |
adj.蒙昧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 tarts | |
n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 );轻佻的女人;妓女;小妞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 abject | |
adj.极可怜的,卑屈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 peppermint | |
n.薄荷,薄荷油,薄荷糖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 scanty | |
adj.缺乏的,仅有的,节省的,狭小的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 wholesomeness | |
卫生性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 ingenuous | |
adj.纯朴的,单纯的;天真的;坦率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 unripe | |
adj.未成熟的;n.未成熟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 ripen | |
vt.使成熟;vi.成熟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 edibility | |
适食性,可食性; 可食用性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 civilisation | |
n.文明,文化,开化,教化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 vegetarianism | |
n.素食,素食主义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 prematurely | |
adv.过早地,贸然地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 component | |
n.组成部分,成分,元件;adj.组成的,合成的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 kernels | |
谷粒( kernel的名词复数 ); 仁; 核; 要点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 kernel | |
n.(果实的)核,仁;(问题)的中心,核心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 pulp | |
n.果肉,纸浆;v.化成纸浆,除去...果肉,制成纸浆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 rhinoceros | |
n.犀牛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 contingency | |
n.意外事件,可能性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 insipid | |
adj.无味的,枯燥乏味的,单调的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 cloves | |
n.丁香(热带树木的干花,形似小钉子,用作调味品,尤用作甜食的香料)( clove的名词复数 );蒜瓣(a garlic ~|a ~of garlic) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 distinctive | |
adj.特别的,有特色的,与众不同的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 relishes | |
n.滋味( relish的名词复数 );乐趣;(大量的)享受;快乐v.欣赏( relish的第三人称单数 );从…获得乐趣;渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 tangible | |
adj.有形的,可触摸的,确凿的,实际的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 cod | |
n.鳕鱼;v.愚弄;哄骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 bilious | |
adj.胆汁过多的;易怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 impartial | |
adj.(in,to)公正的,无偏见的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 mince | |
n.切碎物;v.切碎,矫揉做作地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 taint | |
n.污点;感染;腐坏;v.使感染;污染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 pastry | |
n.油酥面团,酥皮糕点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 wiles | |
n.(旨在欺骗或吸引人的)诡计,花招;欺骗,欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 naught | |
n.无,零 [=nought] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 stew | |
n.炖汤,焖,烦恼;v.炖汤,焖,忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 steward | |
n.乘务员,服务员;看管人;膳食管理员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 lobster | |
n.龙虾,龙虾肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 sardines | |
n. 沙丁鱼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 robust | |
adj.强壮的,强健的,粗野的,需要体力的,浓的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 scotch | |
n.伤口,刻痕;苏格兰威士忌酒;v.粉碎,消灭,阻止;adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 relished | |
v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 );从…获得乐趣;渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 impunity | |
n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 previously | |
adv.以前,先前(地) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 glutinous | |
adj.粘的,胶状的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 glutinousness | |
黏(滞)性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 epicure | |
n.行家,美食家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 vanilla | |
n.香子兰,香草 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 capers | |
n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 );刺山柑v.跳跃,雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 acidity | |
n.酸度,酸性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 muster | |
v.集合,收集,鼓起,激起;n.集合,检阅,集合人员,点名册 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 pampered | |
adj.饮食过量的,饮食奢侈的v.纵容,宠,娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 oysters | |
牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 ordained | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |