Asterix feasts were the best feasts

I've eaten a lot of good food in my life, and enjoyed it tremendously, but none of it ever looked as appetizing as the boars they would chow down at the end of every Asterix story, where the clan gathers together after another adventure around a giant table to celebrate with ale and meat.

Those boars always just looked so bloody good dripping with a golden glaze in the firelight, looking juicy and tender, and eaten with relish by free men and women. Nothing I've ever eaten - not the best Big Mac at four in the morning or the gorgeous ravioli we once ate at a three-star Michelin restaurant in New York - has ever tasted as good as I've always imagined that meat from a village in Gaul, 2000 years ago, tasted like.