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Quote by Mehmet Murat Ildan

“A perfect garden will never come about by itself! There is meticulous work, great talent and endless labour behind every excellent work!”

Quote by Mehmet Murat Ildan

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Mehmet Murat Ildan
Mehmet Murat Ildan

Mehmet Murat Ildan is a renowned Turkish writer born on May 16, 1965. His works span various literary forms including novels, essays, and poetry, and have gained widespread popularity among readers. more

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“I was in the mood for some savory scones- I couldn't eat only sweet things, no matter what Mrs. T said. I cut cold butter into flour with my pastry blender, added minced sun-dried tomatoes, fresh Parmesan, salt and pepper, sprinkled in oregano, and then, on a whim, tossed in crushed fennel seeds. I mixed in an egg and some milk. I kneaded the dough a few times, cut out rounds, and plopped them on a cookie sheet. I brushed the tops with more milk and slid the sheet into the hot oven.”

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Book:Midsummer's Mayhem
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“Bruno reappeared with two baskets swathed in white linen napkins and a ramekin of something bright yellow. Thatcher unveiled one basket. "Pretzel bread," he said. He held up a thick braid of what looked to be soft pretzel, nicely tanned, sprinkled with coarse salt. "This is served with Fee's homemade mustard. So right away the guest knows this isn't a run-of-the-mill restaurant. They're not getting half a cold baguette here, folks, with butter in the gold foil wrapper. This is warm pretzel bread made on the premises, and the mustard ditto. Nine out of ten tables are licking the ramekin clean." He handed the bread basket to a waiter with a blond ponytail (male- everyone at the table was male except for Adrienne, Caren, and the young bar back who was hanging on to Duncan's arm). The ponytailed waiter- name?- tore off a hunk of bread and dipped it in the mustard. He rolled his eyes like he was having an orgasm. The appropriate response, Adrienne thought. But remembering her breakfast she guessed he wasn't faking it. "The other basket contains our world-famous savory doughnuts," Thatcher said. He whipped the cloth off like a magician, revealing six golden-brown doughnuts. Doughnuts? Adrienne had been too nervous to think about eating all day, but now her appetite was roused. After the menu meeting, they were going to have family meal. The doughnuts were deep-fried rings of a light, yeasty, herb-flecked dough. Chive, basil, rosemary. Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside. Savory doughnuts. Who wouldn't stand in line for these? Who wouldn't beg or steal to access the private phone line so that they could make a date with these doughnuts?”

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Book:The Blue Bistro
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“It's different from both chicken and duck. It's flavorful and tender. Lots of umami.' 'The skin is crispy like Peking duck, but the flesh is so moist and creamy.' 'I've never eaten anything like this before! The stuffing in the middle is out of this world. Did you make it all from scratch? I'd love the recipe. Will you give it to me later?' Rika was the last to pick up her fork and tuck in to the meat. The first thing she experienced was simple relief that the pink flesh was sufficiently cooked. It had a unique fragrance to it, which made her think of walking along a path with fallen leaves crunching underfoot, and its clear juice filled her mouth. The stuffing of mochi rice, mince and pine nuts, now swollen with all the turkey juice and butter it had soaked up, had a sticky texture and a concentrated richness of flavor totally different to before it had been stuffed, which made Rika feel that she wanted to carry on eating it forever.”

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Book:Butter
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“Sitting on a recently cleaned chair, she bit into one of the buns. Sugary sweetness exploded in her mouth, and she sighed through the bread. Closing her eyes, she savored every morsel. It was light, fluffy, sweet, and perfect. Had he made this? How? She added "baking" to the growing list of useful skills she didn't possess. Eagerly, she picked up the wedge of cheese and bit into it. Sharp, woody flavor filled her mouth, and she swayed a bit as she shoved more into her mouth. Cheese in the city was typically soft and bland, intended to be spread or melted, a side note to the main dish, but this... It demanded to be devoured.”

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Book:The Spellshop
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