“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.”
Book:Reservations for Two