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Reservations for Two

Book by Hillary Manton Lodge · 7 quotes · Aesop, Baguette, Baking

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Reservations for Two Quotes

“I brightened when I found Rainier cherries in the fridge, with their sunset-colored skin. Nearby sat a tub of mascarpone, and I knew then I could make simple crostini. I washed and pitted the cherries, and then sliced a stray baguette on the bias. While the slices toasted, I mixed the mascarpone with a bit of honey for sweetness and lemon zest for acidity. Once the slices were hot and crisp, I spooned the mascarpone mixture over the top, added a few leaves of lemon thyme, and topped each one with a heaping spoonful of sliced cherries. A single bite tasted of summer.”

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“The secret of French food," I told Neil between bites, "is that nothing goes to waste. After so many wars, the French learned how to cook everything. Which," I noted, loading my fork with sole, "is usually in a large quantity of butter." He chuckled. "Everything is better with butter." "Well, to be technical, there are four mother sauces. But butter goes in most of them. Anyway, the dandelion greens---leave it to a Frenchwoman to decide they make for good eating." "It was a woman who decided that?" "Would a man get adventurous with weeds?" "Good point.”

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“Most people haven't been to Paris at all." "Not unless you're counting Paris, Texas." "Or Paris, Illinois." "Paris, Maine," Neil countered. "Paris, Idaho," I added with a nod. "And Paris, Arkansas." "There's a Paris, Arkansas?" Neil asked, eyebrows high. "Yup. Kentucky, too. And a couple others..." "How do you know this?" "A potent blend of Where in America Is Carmen Sandiego?, curiosity, and the Internet." "Who said technology never offered anything useful?" "I'm guessing victims of e-mail scams.”

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“I made American pancakes this morning. Would you like some? I am about to serve the first batch to my guests." "I can make some for us," I said, taking in the batter, the greased griddle, and the bowl of apricots. "You can go and fuss over the guests." "Ah, bien," she answered, loading a platter full of beautiful apricot-studded pancakes to take away. "Bon, I pour the batter and place the slices over the top just so. They're very moist because of the crème fraîche, and then I serve them with a crème anglaise." "It looks great," I said, taking the ladle in hand and stirring the batter, just to get a feel for the consistency. "Don't worry about us." Sandrine grinned her thanks, and I turned my attention to breakfast. "I can do that, if you want to sit," Neil offered. I waved him away. "I can make pancakes in my sleep." "I liked that she called them 'American pancakes'." "Well, they are. French pancakes are crepes, and German pancakes are a whole other deal altogether." I ladled four puddles of batter onto the griddle, enjoying the sizzling sound they made as batter met butter. "English pancakes are closer to crepes, just thicker." "Reminds me of when I was in Toronto for a conference. I tried to order a Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza but got tongue-tied." I laughed and began to arrange the apricots. "What did you do?" "I said 'Hawaiian' instead. The guy seemed to know what I was talking about." "Quick thinking." "Thank you." "In truth, between the crème fraîche and the crème anglaise topping, I think these pancakes are a bit more trans-Atlantic than American." "I'll take your word for it.”

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