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The Saturday Night Supper Club

Book by Carla Laureano · 9 quotes · Amuse Bouche, Appetizers, Beets

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The Saturday Night Supper Club Quotes

“Time to choose a palate cleanser. I hope you like sorbet?" So they were done with the personal. "If you make it, I'm sure I'll like it." He did, though he preferred the cucumber-mint to the tomato and watermelon that she put in front of him. Both the lamb shank and the quail were great, but they agreed that lamb said spring more than summer and chose the quail.”

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“He ladled the borscht into bowls and topped each with a dollop of sour cream and a sprig of fresh dill- very attractive, Rachel thought, both the presentation and the look of concentration on his ridiculously handsome face. That thought made her struggle to hold back her smile as he brought the bowls to the table. The meat had been arranged on the platter in an elegant swoop of mushroom sauce with more drizzled over the top. He'd gone to some trouble to think it through and make it restaurant-worthy. The fact he'd given it so much effort only put more weight behind her smile. He swept his hand toward the table and pulled her chair out for her. "Shall we eat then?" "This looks amazing." She was rewarded with a pleased smile from him. It was amazing, actually, especially considering he claimed he didn't cook. The borscht held just the right amount of sweetness, the beets tender but still fresh and bright, finely diced pork giving it further flavor. The dumplings, colored green from the spinach in the dough, were tender with a delicious filling.”

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“They were all there for the food, the drink, and the ambience, even as everyone devoured plates as disparate as Korean bibimbap and French vichyssoise. "I'm going over there." Ana pointed to a midnight-blue food truck that was known for having the best bao, steamed Vietnamese buns, in Denver. Which, given the popularity of the southeast Asian cuisine in the city lately, was more of an accomplishment than it might have seemed. "What about you?" Rachel asked Melody. "I'm having what you're having. You never steer me wrong." "Then A Parisian in Denver is the way to go. Come on. I want to say hello to Lilia." They found their way to the end of the line in front of a food truck painted in red, blue, and white, and Rachel craned her neck to feet a better look at the chalkboard that proclaimed the day's specials. There was French street food like crepes and merguez sausages alongside trendy favorites like duck confit pommes frites.”

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“Alex picked up his fork and knife and cut a piece of scallop, then forked it into his mouth with a stack of greens. The seafood was indeed perfectly cooked, tender and sweet and juicy, and the slight tang of the dressing complemented the mild flavors of the scallop. "What's in the dressing?" he asked. A crafty smile formed on her lips, a sparkle in her eye. "The dreaded fennel." "That's fennel? I like it. It's not all that licorice-y." "Not in these concentrations." Rachel took a bite, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as she considered. "I like this one. Simple. Tastes like summer to me. But it's too..." "Common?" "That's exactly it." "I don't know. I like the scallops. They're perfect. Maybe with some sort of starch. Not as light." Rachel took another bite. "Puree. Artichoke maybe, with wild mushrooms.”

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“Pop-up restaurants?" Ana took the tablet back, practically vibrating with excitement. "Once a month, even once a week. Fixed menu, unusual locations. Heavy emphasis on experience and hospitality." "I know what they are." They'd been popular in Europe for many years now. Some of them were spectacular productions closer to a circus, like Gingerline in London. Others were immersive experiences in the same place using rotating themes. A few farm-to-table chefs in Colorado already hosted pop-ups at their farms for a select guest list. Tickets were as coveted in the food world as white truffles and twice as hard to acquire.”

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