‘A language we all speak’: Food in Marion Halligan’s writing

Martha thinks there’s nothing like a good Brie, tasting of grass or clay or whatever, and as much wine as you want in your own garden in spring with interesting conversation, to make you feel smug about the pleasures of existence. She thinks smug but she means happy; smug may placate through irony, happy could tempt fate. (Halligan 1989, 28)