I've been reading Zola's The Belly of Paris and, although I suspect this is not his purpose, am nearly crazed with desire for the various foods he mentions. I guess that his larger point has to do with materialism and how wrong it is to be trapped by the good things of the world while suffering abounds, or some such. None the less, I found that I had to have an onion tart:
What's for dinner by you?
In addition, neither the Falcons nor the Giants knows how to win.