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Quote by Jeffrey Stepakoff

“Look, Herb, I could keep you all here all afternoon, sniffin' and slurpin' pink Peruvian peppercorns and criollo cacao, and cinnamon and cascarilla and coriander, and caraway and carrot seed and so much climbing ylang-ylang you couldn't tell a cup of tea from a cup of turpentine.”

Quote by Jeffrey Stepakoff

Book:The Orchard
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The Orchard

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Author

Jeffrey Stepakoff
Jeffrey Stepakoff

Jeffrey Stepakoff is a renowned television writer whose works have gained widespread recognition in the industry. Detailed information about his life and achievements is limited. more

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“I made a sticky mock ambrosia cake from honey and apples, to be served by one of the prettiest slaves, dressed as a handmaiden to Venus. I hoped when people left they would be raving about both the atmosphere and the food. "I came to go over the menu," Apicius said, jolting me out of my thoughts. He was like an eager child just given a fresh plum. Sotas settled on a stool near the door and raised a hand in greeting. "Of course. I can make a variety of dishes and cut them up for easy sampling. I wanted to start with roasted hyacinth bulbs, some soft cheese drenched in raisin wine with bread, and slices of sow's udder with garum and lovage. I thought we could serve the Lucanian sausage I made earlier this week. And remember my hard egg mice with the almond ears and the clove eyes? I think those might go over well." "Perfect! The mice will delight the ladies!”

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“Oh, that's a good one," I responded to the zingy and aromatic Southampton tea truffle, picking up on hints of apricot in the Ceylon tea. "Heaven," I moaned, gripping the marble countertop where she mixed and tempered her bonbons, after tasting the strawberry balsamic truffle, made with strawberry purée, eight-year-old La Vecchia Dispensa Italian balsamic vinegar, and 66 percent dark chocolate, which was then dusted with freeze-dried strawberry powder.”

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Book:Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light
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“I came up with a variation on the molten-chocolate cake that doesn't make me crazy with how brainless it is. You said the theme was date restaurant, man accessible, right?" "Right." "So I added the Black Butte Porter---the one from Deschutes Brewery---to the chocolate cake. It makes the flavor a little darker, a little more complex. I wanted to do five or six desserts, with at least three of them seasonal. For the standards, I thought the chocolate cake and an Italian-style cream puff." She nodded toward the cream puffs on the table. "Try one and tell me what you think." I wasn't awake enough for silverware, so I picked up the cream puff and bit straight into it, forming a small cloud of powdered sugar. "That's so good," I said. Clementine continued to watch me. I dove in for a second bite. And then I found it---cherries. Ripe, real cherries in a fruity filling hidden at the center. "Oh my goodness," I said, my mouth full. "That is amazing." "Glad you think so. I thought it was a clever play on Saint Joseph's Day zeppole---cherries, but not those awful maraschino cherries." I nodded. "Maraschino cherries are the worst." Another bite. "This cream puff almost tastes like a grown-up doughnut. And I mean that in the best way.”

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“Waiters carried trays of Campari spritz cocktails that looked like glowing red orbs, served with slices of fresh orange, and guests nibbled on canapés as they visited the different tables covered in decadent displays: seafood towers filled with shrimp, snow crab, oysters, clams, and freshly boiled langoustine tails, six large copper pots filled with different kinds of risotto simmering at a low temperature, intricate, multicolored stained-glass raviolis stuffed with smoked salmon and cream cheese, and a bread display that looked like an abstract sculpture.”

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“You know what I think?" she says. "That people's memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn't matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They're all just fuel. Advertising fillers in the newspaper, philosophy books, dirty pictures in a magazine, a bundle of ten-thousand-yen bills: when you feed 'em to the fire, they're all just paper.”

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Book:After Dark
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“Allowing ourselves to become pure point of view, we hang in midair over the city. What we see now is a gigantic metropolis waking up. Commuter trains of many colors move in all directions, transporting people from place to place. Each of those under transport is a human being with a different face and mind, and at the same time each is a nameless part of the collective identity. Each is simultaneously a self-contained whole and a mere part. Handling this dualism of theirs skillfully and advantageously, they perform their morning rituals with deftness and precision: brushing teeth, shaving, tying neckties, applying lipstick. They check the morning news on TV, exchange words with their families, eat, defecate.”

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“There'll be no more music, Father. But there'll be this!" He stepped into the dark, picked up the knife, and held it under their noses. "Go home. Tell your people what you saw and heard here tonight. And tell 'em that anyone we catch on these roads after dark anymore... this is what they'll get. Now that I know we're never to see the face o' God, we have nothing to lose. So, make sure you have your message right, Father, 'cause there'll be no other warning.”

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“In our broad sweep, the city looks like a single gigantic creature - or more like a single collective entity created by many intertwining organism. Countless arteries stretch to the ends of its elusive body, circulating a continuous supply of fresh blood cells, sending out new data and collecting the old, sending out new consumables and collecting the old, sending out new contradictions and collecting the old. To the rhythm of its pulsing, all parts of the body flicker and flare up and squirm. Midnight is approaching, and while the peak of activity has passed, the basal metabolism that maintains life continues undiminished, producing the basso continuo of the city's moan, a monotonous sound that neither rises nor falls but is pregnant with foreboding.”

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