chateaubriand

The most enduring dish is probably Tournedos Rossini, which he invented with Moissons to top the Chateaubriand steak.

The Chateaubriand steak was indeed named after him but he didn't create it.

Up front on TWA they carved the Chateaubriand at your seat.

Or having my chateaubriand cooked by one.

Memories from beyond the Grave: Chateaubriand 5.

In Nabokov's novel <i>Pnin</i>, there is the academic Blorenge, who somebody says calls to mind the legendary head of a French Department who thought that Chateaubriand was a famous chef.

In France, Chateaubriand was publishing.

This barrier to creativity that arrives in the mid-30s is especially evident in the Romantic artists, not just Wordsworth and Coleridge, but also Holderlin, Schlegel, Chateaubriand and Senancour.

Some writers found consular and diplomatic posts: among the Americans, Hawthorne, Howell, and (James Russell) Lowell; among the French, Chateaubriand and Stendhal.

> When translated, Chateaubriand sounds long-winded and often vapidly self-absorbed.

Can we stop with the myth that somewhere in the australian bush there is some Hemingway or Chateaubriand waiting to be published, but his old solar panels can just give him enough energy to send his manuscript by email?

While like you, I am not convinced that writers tend to end their careers earlier than painters (the three greatest living American novelists, DeLillo, Pynchon and McCarthy, all well in their 80s, have all published relatively recently), I have to say that Chateaubriand represents a special case.

"Francois Chateaubriand" (François-René de Chateaubriand -- he would not have been pleased if one forgot the de ) was no chef at all.

Check out "Avenue de Chateaubriand, Montréal, Québec H2S 2N8, Canada".

From Rosen's "Romantic poets, critics, and other madmen": > Chateaubriand alone of these writers was able to continue to produce work in later years comparable to his first masterpieces.

I’m going to quote Chateaubriand, talking about the French of his time: “the French instinctively go where the power is; they don’t love freedom at all; equality alone is their only idol.

Memoirs from Beyond the Tomb, is revealing—Chateaubriand wrote as if already dead and he had less need to compromise.

A book about how to talk about places you've never been draws heavily on Chateaubriand.

Chateaubriand ended up broke and recouped as best he could by selling his memoirs.