Faeries prefer to sup on the nectar
in flower cups and early morning dew; but since these delicacies are rarely
gathered in quantities sufficient to satisfy a faerie appetite, other victuals
must be found. Faeries require good meats served on golden platters, and
French wines and the finest new potatoes. Chickens and young turkeys, mutton
and pastries, butter and cake, all procured by means of pishogues (spells)
from the laboring mortals, grace the tables of the sídhe. A faerie
is too careless to farm, to heedless of all save his pleasure to tend daily
to the cows. And why should he when humans prvide all in abundance? All
lies ready for the taking: a little glamour makes the crop look blighted,
and allows the faeries to reap at leisure the harvest.
Although
faeries dine well, they never over indulge. Never has one been seen befuddled
by drink nor encumbered with a blubbery belly. Although passionate in many
respects, faeries are never immoderate at table. Once a mortal invited
to a faerie dinner saw an old woman basted and ready for the spit. Horrified
at the proposed fare, he fainted, but upon revival discovered the hag gone
and a marvellous feast laid on the table. Faeries enjoy playing such pranks
on humans over-ready to believe that those with unfamiliar ways must therefore
have unnatural appetites.
Many a mortal who tasted faerie food remained forever with the sídhe
or, once returned to his former land, pined away looking for crystal palaces.
Yet many return, for it is from them that we aquire our faerie tales. The
secret lies in the salt: faeries never eat it and mortals who but taste
of unsalted faerie food have the glamour put upon them making them forgetful
of their former cares. If a mortal carried a pinch of salt (for the faeries
are not always gracious to provide it) at all times, he would be assured
of a good meal, and a good tale to tell when he returned home.
Source: Carolyn White "A History of Irish Fairies"