Ful sooty was hire bour and eek hir halle,
In which she eet ful many a sklendre meel.
Of poynaunt sauce hir neded never a deel.
No deyntee morsel passed thurgh hir throte.
– Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales, The Nun’s Priest’s Tale. The poor widow lives far from the world of the wealthy. The bedroom of her small cottage is blackened with soot, her meals are slender, she doesn’t need any spicy sauce because she probably can’t afford it, and no dainty morsel ever passes her lips.