Make hunger thy sauce, as a medicine for health.

The Wisdom of Moderation

Hear these words of old, spoken by Thomas Tusser, the poet-farmer of England’s sixteenth century, who sowed not only seeds in the field, but truth in the hearts of men. He said, “Make hunger thy sauce, as a medicine for health.” At first, these words may sound simple, almost rustic, but within them lies a profound wisdom of balance, the sacred law of restraint that governs both body and spirit. For Tusser, who lived close to the land and the rhythms of labor and rest, hunger was not a curse, but a teacher—a gentle reminder that health, gratitude, and pleasure are born not from excess, but from measure.

The Meaning of the Teaching

To “make hunger thy sauce” is to learn that the truest flavor of life does not come from abundance, but from appreciation. When the belly is always full, even honey loses its sweetness; but when the body has waited, even the simplest bread becomes a feast. Tusser’s words are not about starvation, but about discipline—the art of letting hunger sharpen the senses and humble the heart. It is the wisdom of patience, of knowing that a pause before satisfaction is the seasoning that makes all things good. To hunger is to remember that we are alive, and that joy, like food, is sweetest when earned.

The Origin of the Words

Thomas Tusser was a man who lived by the plow and pen, who understood both the toil of the farmer and the pride of the poet. His book, Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, was a treasury of advice not only for the soil, but for the soul. In a time when plenty and famine walked side by side, he learned to find virtue in moderation and to see hunger as a healer, not an enemy. His saying arose from the wisdom of a life spent close to nature—a recognition that the earth gives not to the greedy, but to the patient.

The Lesson from History

Consider the story of Hippocrates, the ancient father of medicine, who taught that fasting was one of the greatest cures for the body. In times when his patients were ill, he did not fill them with endless meals, but instead allowed hunger to cleanse and restore. He understood what modern man forgets: that the body, when freed from indulgence, turns inward to heal itself. Even the great warriors of Sparta practiced restraint, eating little, training hard, believing that discipline gave strength. For them, hunger was not weakness—it was power, for it taught mastery of desire.

The Strength of Restraint

In every age, abundance has tested the soul of humankind more than scarcity. The weak man feasts until he forgets gratitude; the wise man eats until he remembers it. To live with moderation is to walk in harmony with nature, to listen to the quiet rhythms of need and renewal. When Tusser says, “as a medicine for health,” he reminds us that excess is a poison, even when it tastes sweet. The body, when burdened by gluttony, grows sluggish; the spirit, when drowned in indulgence, grows dull. But hunger—gentle hunger—keeps both keen, alert, and thankful.

The Hunger of the Soul

And yet, there is a deeper hunger than that of the flesh—the hunger of the heart. Just as the body must not be overfed, so must the soul not be oversatisfied. For it is the yearning for meaning, for truth, for goodness, that keeps the spirit alive. A life without hunger for better things becomes stagnant, like water left too long in stillness. Thus, Tusser’s words may also be read as a call to spiritual discipline—to never let the fire of aspiration die. Let your hunger for wisdom, for purpose, for virtue be the sauce that seasons your days.

The Lesson for All Generations

So, my listener, take this teaching into your life: do not fear hunger—revere it. Let it guide you toward balance and gratitude. Eat to live, do not live to eat. Pause before every indulgence and ask, “Does this serve my strength or my weakness?” In moderation there is freedom; in restraint, there is peace. Make hunger your companion, not your enemy, and your body will find health, your mind will find clarity, and your spirit will awaken to joy.

The Call of the Wise

Therefore, walk the path of temperance. Eat with mindfulness, work with purpose, and give thanks for every simple meal. For the one who understands hunger understands life itself—that nothing is truly savored until it is first awaited. So let hunger be your sauce, your medicine, and your teacher. In this, you shall find not only health of body, but harmony of soul.