I've been off in an afternoon reverie about food in fiction. It would make a wonderful book in itself.
The feasts in the Great Hall in Harry Potter and other children's books with their midnight feasts and picnics.
The wonderful sounding food cooked by the incomparable Anatole in PG Wodhouse and the sideboards at country houses simply groaning with breakfast dishes.
The cocktails in Christie and Sayers and the various dinners at Clubs.
I'm sure there's more but I'm just dreaming of breakfast kedgeree in an enormous serving platter, after my morning tea in bed.
(I'll point out at this point that my ancestors were either down the pit, in service or at a loom so the likelihood of me ever having had a chance at this historically are slim to none!)