“I just stole an ambulance, James marvelled, the familiar fire sparking, raising his spirits. The fuel gauge was showing nearly full. Better yet, the driver had left his lunch on the dashboard, wrapped in a tea towel – cheese sandwiches with slices of apple between the thick doorstops of white bread. James took a greedy mouthful. Heaven.” / #YoungBond - #ShootToKill by #SteveCole
“There was a large room at the top of the Terminus Nord with a good shower and plentiful shampoo and soap. Bond had room service send up some whisky and Perrier, then poured himself a large glassful as he relaxed on the bed with a clean white towel wrapped round him.” / #SebastianFaulks / #DevilMayCare
"He strolled down to the bar – now functioning as a dining room – and ate the breakfast that was provided: orange juice, an overcooked omelette and watery coffee. He had lit his first cigarette of the day when a young man came into the room and walked over to him, smiling broadly.” William Boyd: “Solo” (2013) #JamesBond #Solo #WilliamBoyd #food #bondfood #books #bondbooks
“They reached a picnic site set up by the Sherpas at approximately one o’clock. There was still another two hours or more to go before they reached the day’s stop. Lunch was tama, a nepali soup made from dried bamboo shoots. Bond found it less than satisfying, but it would be have to do.” Raymond Benson: “High Time to Kill” (1999)
Self-made 007 Food: Yes, James Bond eats pizza, too... “Bond and Tylyn had a quiet dinner in town at one of the many sidewalk cafés off the main street. They had thin, crispy pizzas with a bottle of the local red wine. Afterward they strolled among the tourist shops, looking at the extensive displays of Corsican knives, T-shirts with the symbol of Corsica, “the moor” on them, and other arts and crafts souvenirs.” Raymond Benson: “Never Dream of Dying” (2001)
An old friend of M’s had fixed him up with a cottage in Barbados where he’d been able to swim and snorkel most of the day before eating dinner on the terrace, cooked and served by a plump female islander called Charity. She did marvellous grilled fish and rice dishes, with home-made ice-creams and piles of sliced mango and papaya to follow.
“In the morning, he exercised strenuously, pushing himself through sixty sit-ups and a variety of stretching exercises for the legs and back that Wayland had shown him in Barbados. The maid brought him breakfast as he was cooling down, and he ate it wrapped in a towel at the table in the window. The coffee was good, but he could never feel enthusiastic about croissants. At least there was something approaching marmalade.”