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Quote by Rick Yancey

“I would just have to find a hog, slaughter it, butcher it, cure the meat, then fry it up. Thinking about the bacon—the potential of bacon—gives me hope. Not all is lost if bacon isn't. Seriously.”

Quote by Rick Yancey

Book:The Last Star
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The Last Star

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Author

Rick Yancey
Rick Yancey

Rick Yancey is an American novelist known for his young adult literature. His works often blend elements of science fiction, fantasy, and adventure, and are highly favored by young readers. more

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“And then red, marbled with pink, around two imperfect circles of bone-white with dark centers. A space where there shouldn’t be one—ground visible, covered with grass, and some clover. Red again—an image of the tomatoes on the kitchen counter flashed across Beatrice’s mind—surrounding two more bone-white circles. The hand bearing the peacock was severed, that was why Beatrice could see a sliver of ground where basic biology dictated there should be skin. There was a clean cut five inches or so above the wrist, just missing the edge of the peacock’s tail, the muscles and tendons—the bones—neatly sliced through like a Swiss round steak prepared by an expert butcher.”

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“Do you know what it is that boosts her cooking the most?" "Erm... her strength, which lets her handle even bone-in meat as she will?" "That is an asset, yes. But her highest skill is exactly the opposite of power... it's her sensitivity. The lips are a part of the body that are particularly sensitive to heat. However, only hers are sensitive enough to tell the exact temperature. But Ikumi Mito's sensitivity shines brightest when she handles the meat with her hands. Watch her fingertips. Do you see the delicate grace with which she touches it? She is like a pianist, tickling the ivories in an elegant solo. It is a sonata of meat.”

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Book:Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 2
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“The customer quickly turned the lock on the front door before following Mike to the workstation and watching as the butcher slid a fat smoked ham back and forth, back and forth across the razor-sharp blade of the meat-slicing machine. Mike caught each thin slice and piled it on the round, sesame-seeded bread that lay split open on the counter. He repeated the process with salami, depositing it on the ham. Next a layer of capicola, followed by pepperoni, Swiss cheese, and provolone. "Looking good," said the customer, observing from the other side of the counter. "Thanks again for this." "No problem," said Mike. "We Royal Street folks have to help each other out when we can." "How many muffs do you think you've made in your life?" asked the customer, setting a shopping bag on the floor. The sandwich maker laughed. "I couldn't even begin to tell you." He reached for the glass container of olive spread he had mixed himself. Finely chopped green olives, celery, cauliflower, and carrot seasoned with extra-virgin olive oil, all left to marinate overnight.”

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Book:That Old Black Magic
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