Emotion is extremely exhausting, and Emma makes very nice fish-cakes

She went on telling Miss Silver everything she knew. It gave her the most extraordinary sense of relief. When she had finished she felt weak, and empty, and quiet.

Miss Silver coughed in a very kind manner and said briskly, 'And now, my dear, we will have some breakfast. Emma will have it ready for us. Fish-cakes – and do you prefer tea or coffee?'

'Oh, Miss Silver, I couldn't!'

Miss Silver was putting the knitting away in a flowered chintz bag. She said with great firmness, 'Indeed you can, my dear. And you will feel a great deal better when you have had something to eat. Emotion is extremely exhausting, and Emma makes very nice fish-cakes. And perhaps you would like to wash your face.'

Ivory Dagger (1953)

Patricia Wentworth

Note: I love Miss Silver - the knitting, the cough*, the spinster saved from poverty by her own wits. This is quite a weak entry in the Miss Silver canon, mostly because the heroine-victim (not the young lady above) is all pale and spineless and totally without the spirit to rescue herself. 

* From the preface to Catherine Wheel: "To those readers who have so kindly concerned themselves about Miss Silver’s health. Her occasional slight cough is merely a means of self-expression. It does not indicate any bronchial affection. She enjoys excellent health. P.W."

the inordinate appetite of all poor relations

Lord Lionel being an advocate of what he considered a neat, plain dinner, only two courses were served at Sale Park when the family dined alone. The first of these consisted of a tureen of turtle, removed with fish, which was in its turn removed with a haunch of venison. Several side-dishes, such as pork cutlets with Rober sauce, larded fillets of beef, tenderones of veal and truffles, and a braised ham, graced the board, but since his lordship was a moderate trencherman, and the Duke had a notoriously small appetite, the only person who did justice to the spread was Miss Scamblesby, who had (so his lordship had more than once remarked to his nephew) the inordinate appetite of all poor relations.

Georgette Heyer 

The Foundling (1948)

Not a particularly memorable Heyer, but the food sounds good. Maybe skip the turtle (fascinating article here)? On Rober Sauce: 

(A Complete System of Cookery, on a Plan Entirely New, Consisting of Every Thing that is Requisite for Cooks to Know in the Kitchen Business: Containing Bills of Fare for Every Day in the Year, and Directions to Dress Each Dish; Being One Year's Work at the Marquis of Buckingham's from the 1st of January to the 31st of December, 1805 by John Simpson, via googlebooks)

The same book gives a recipe for "tenderones of veal": 

 

tens of thousands of Aussie pies

For the first half of the 1900s only fish and chips challenged the pie as the natural choice for Australians bent on instant gratification of their hunger pangs. In fact, when they opened Parliament House in Canberra in 1926 the organisers decided to feed the multitudes with tens of thousands of Aussie pies. Unfortunately, they grossly over-estimated the number of visitors who would flock to the heart of new democracy. The great earth movers employed to lay the foundations of Parliament House had to be revved up again to bury thousands of left-over pies. The place of burial is said to be beneath the present Treasury Building so in more ways than one the great Aussie pie lies at the foundation of the country's economic health.

Robert Macklin (2012)

The Great Australian Pie: a history and culinary adventure

I discussed this book here.

See also the Guardian on the Australian pie.

Happy Australia Day!

fillet de sole à la Jeanette

'You have been to the Riviera before, Georges?' said Poirot to his valet the following morning. George was an intensely English, rather wooden-faced individual.

'Yes, sir. I was here two years ago when I was in the service of Lord Edward Frampton.'

'And today,' murmured his master, 'you are here with Hercule Poirot. How one mounts in the world!'

The valet made no reply to this observation. After a suitable pause he asked:

'The brown lounge suit, sir? The wind is somewhat chilly today.'

'There is a grease spot on the waistcoat,' objected Poirot. 'A morceau of Fillet de sole à la Jeanette alighted there when I was lunching at the Ritz last Tuesday.'

'There is no spot there now, sir,' said George reproachfully. 'I have removed it.'

'Très bien!' said Poirot. 'I am pleased with you, Georges.'

'Thank you, sir.'

Agatha Christie

The Mystery of the Blue Train (1928)

This book offers one of my favourite clichés.

Tommy also eats sole à la Jeanette in The Secret Adversary. 

Was it a Christie invention?

cold fish au porto

He ordered a meal that a shopgirl out on the spree might choose – cold fish au porto, a roast bird, and a piping hot soufflé which concealed in its innards a red ice, sharp on the tongue.

Colette

Chéri (1920)

More on Chéri's inner coldness here.