I smelled roast bosk cooking.
{Hunters of Gor, page 34}
A large, shaggy, long-haired bovine similar to Earth's ox, providing food, leather and many other needs. The meat may be roasted, broiled, boiled, stewed, fried or dried.
{Nomads of Gor, page 4}
The Wagon Peoples grow no food, nor do they have manufacturing as we know it. They are herders, and it is said, killers. They eat nothing that has touched the dirt. They live on the meat and milk of the bosk. They are among the proudest peoples on Gor, regarding the dwellers of the cities of Gor as vermin in holes, cowards who must fly behind walls, wretches who fear to live beneath the broad sky, who dare not dispute them the open, windswept plains of their world. The bosk is said to be the Mother of the Wagon Peoples, and they reverence it as such. The man who kills one foolishly is strangled in thongs or suffocated in the hide of the animal he slew.
{Nomads of Gor, page 5}
The meat was a steak, cut from the loin of a bosk, a huge shaggy, long-horned, ill-tempered bovine which shambles in large, slow-moving herds across the prairies of Gor. Vika seared this meat, as thick as the forearm of a warrior, on a small iron grill over a kindling of charcoal cylinders, so that the thin margin of the outside was black, crispy and flaky and sealed within by the touch of the fire was the blood-rich flesh, hot and fat with juice.
{Priest-Kings of Gor, page 45}
The warrior leapt from the dais and, in a few moments
returned with a handful of roasted bosk meat.
{Nomads of Gor, page 54}
~ Eggs, Arctic Gant ~
I stepped aside to let a young girl pass, who carried two baskets of eggs, those of the migratory arctic gant. They nest in the mountains of the Hrimgar and in steep, rocky outcroppings, called bird cliffs, found here and there jutting out of the tundra. The bird cliffs doubtless bear some geological relation to the Hrimgar chains. When such eggs are frozen they are eaten like apples.
{Beasts of Gor, page 196}
~ Eggs, Vulo ~
Soon, I smelled the frying of vulo eggs in a large, flat pan ...
{Slave Girl of Gor, page 73}
Eta piled several of the hot, tiny eggs, earlier kept fresh in cool sand within the cave, on a plate, with heated yellow bread, for him.
{Slave Girl of Gor, page 73}
"So," she said, "I have not had anything to eat since yesterday morning and if I am not at the trough in the quarters for female staff slaves by the small bar after the eighth bar I will miss breakfast. I cannot simply go down to the kitchen like you and demand five vulo eggs!"
{Assassin of Gor, page 103}
He sat, cross-legged, behind the low table. On it were hot bread, yellow and fresh, hot black wine, steaming, with its sugars, slices of roast bosk, the scrambled eggs of vulos, pastries with creams and custards.
{Beasts of Gor, page 20}
~ Eggs, White Grunt ~
In the hall was an open circle of small tables, at which a handful of guests, on cushions and mats, reclined. There were four men and two women at these tables, other than the Lady Florence, the hostess, and her guest of the past several days, the Lady Metpomene. The tables were covered with cloths of glistening white and a service of gold. Before each guest there were tiny slices of tospit and larma, small pasteries, and in a tiny golden cup, with a small golden spoon, the clustered, black, tiny eggs of the white grunt. The first wine, a light white wine, was being deferentially served by Pamela and Bonnie.
{Fighting Slave of Gor, pages 275-276}
