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Quote by Sonali Dev

“There's still time. The first episode hasn't aired yet. You can ask for any other chef and they'll give you what you want. I don't think I can do this." "The habit of walking away from things must be a hard one to break," he said, when the last thing he wanted to think about right now was that particular moment from their past. She's just a girl I dated in high school. Her long, incredibly delicate fingers squeezed her temples, her jaw clenched, every inch of her screamed how badly she did not want to be doing this with him. If she wanted to walk away, she was going to have to be the one to do it. Again. "As for how I behaved with DJ," he said when the silence had stretched out long enough that he knew she wasn't going to respond, "it was an honest mistake." None of this was about DJ. "Dropping a knife from shock, that's an honest mistake," she said, the new shell she'd grown melting like ice around pine needles after a winter storm. "Being rude to someone because you're angry with someone else? That's just being spoiled and self-centered.”

Quote by Sonali Dev

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Recipe for Persuasion

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Sonali Dev

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“You know that I'm the owner of Curried Dreams, right? I inherited it as his wife." Her parents had never gotten divorced. Ashna remembered how guilty she had felt every time she prayed that they would. "I think it's time we sell it." Ashna dumped the paper towels in the garbage, hands shaking. The urge to press down, crush the garbage until it shrank to the bottom of the bin pushed inside her. "That's a new low, even for you." She gave in and jammed her hand into the garbage, pressing it down until it crushed and folded and smashed. "You already hate me. I might as well do what's right for you and risk you hating me more." "How is forcing me to give up my livelihood right for me?" She washed her hands to keep from shoving the garbage again. "If it weren't for Curried Dreams you would actually be looking for and doing something you enjoyed. You'd get out from that dark place your father thrust you into." Ashna was shaking now. All she wanted was to walk away. To crawl into bed. To get away from Shobi. The habit of walking away from things must be a hard one to break. Go to hell, Frederico Silva! "Curried Dreams is not a dark place. I can turn it around. I'm close to doing it." "You're not going to win that show. You don't even like being a chef! You can't win without passion." "Thanks, Mom. And not all of us are selfish enough to put ourselves and our damn passion before everything else!" Shobi gasped and Ashna sucked in her lips.”

“I think you've forgotten what it means to be happy." Ashna sank down to her knees next to the tub. A stray hair marred the spotless floor. She picked it up and threw it in the garbage. "Are you going to say anything at all?" Ashna wanted to, but her words had a way of hiding away when they sensed Shobi's presence. "Ashna?" She couldn't tell if Shobi was reprimanding her or if that was concern in her voice. Not that she had any experience with recognizing concern in Shobi's voice. "You're wrong, Mom. You can only forget something you knew.”

“You're moving on from Curried Dreams?" The almost gleeful hope in Shobi's voice strummed every one of Ashna's overstretched nerves. Baba's been dead for twelve years,she wanted to scream. You can stop fighting with him now. "No, I'm not. But I'm going to be on a competitive cooking show as a pro chef." Her voice sounded strong and clear for the first time since she'd heard Shobi's hello. She leaned in and met her own eyes in the mirror. "Reality TV? You?" The voice on the phone stretched between skepticism and outright disbelief. Shobi's favorite metaphorical chains stretched at the links around Ashna. "Yes. If I win I can pay down the debt on Curried Dreams. And no, I'm never giving up on it." The frustrated sound Shobi made was so delicious that for one lovely second Ashna didn't care about anything else.”

“I do appreciate you saving my toes from being severed." Instead of remorse an icy coolness dripped from her tone, a mockery of what he'd done. The throbbing in his knee spread all through him like rage. He stepped into her space, the memory of betrayal vibrating through him, and leaned close to her ear. "They were the first toes I sucked." His tone was cruel, but he didn't care. "Letting them get severed under my watch would be callous, wouldn't it?" She stepped away from him, face flaming, her scent flooding his brain. Her hair still smelled like it always had. As though her essence was wrapped up in it, clean and fiery like freshly bloomed roses. He hated how it reached inside him and dug up memories. But like everything else about her, even her scent had become colder. The fire almost snuffed out, even the vibrancy of roses too restrained to be real. The full blast of her jet-black glare met his. "Since when is being callous a problem for you?" It was Rico's turn to stiffen, but he had spent too much time in the spotlight to let it show. What about chasing her around like a puppy had been callous? Or about begging her not to leave him? Please, Ash. I'll do whatever you want to make myself worthy of you. Don't leave me. How had he had so little self-respect?”

“He grew up in Rio de Janeiro. So, it could be so many things. Such a rich tradition of comfort foods. Maybe not something entirely traditional. Umm... churros?" She said it exactly the way he had taught her to say it, many moons ago, while feeding the crisp-on-the-outside, pillowy-on-the-inside confection into her mouth and then tasting the sticky sweetness on her lips.”

“Have you eaten dinner? I made some varan bhaat." Now she felt stupid. Boiled rice and dal was the only thing she knew how to cook. But like her, Ashna had loved the simple comfort food as a child. Maybe it was Shobi's imagination, but a sparkle broke through the weariness in Ashna's eyes. "Varan bhaat?" But she got a hold of herself. "I didn't have ghee in the house." Shobi went to the kitchen and Ashna followed her with her usual tentativeness. "I made some." Shobi popped the two bowls she had mixed into the microwave. "Ghee, now that I know how to make. I used to love the smell when our cook made it when I was little. So she showed me how to. Of course, she used to churn the butter from the cream first; I just walked down to the store and bought butter." Shobi put the bowl of rice and lentils mixed in with ghee and fresh lemon juice in front of Ashi. For the next few minutes- the first peaceful minutes she'd shared with her daughter since she'd arrived- the two of them ate, letting the sticky, wholesome goodness melt on their tongues and stick to their palates and fill their mouths with that internal hug of a cherished comfort food.”