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Quote by Vicki Perry

“The thought of Annie being gone was too much to bear. I swear I heard gasps from the girls as Abby released the words of her passing to the screen.”

Quote by Vicki Perry

Book:The Chat Room
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The Chat Room

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Vicki Perry

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“Do you know, it's really hard to be a parent. I blame it on Santa Claus. You spend so long making sure your kid doesn't know he's fake that you can't tell when you're supposed to stop." "Mom, I found you and Calla wrapping my presents when I was, like, six." "It was a metaphor, Blue." "A metaphor's supposed to clarify by providing an example. That didn't clarify." "Do you know what I mean or not?" "What you mean is that you're sorry you didn't tell me about Butternut." Maura glowered at the door as if Calla stood behind it. "I wish you wouldn't call him that." "If you'd been the one to tell me about him, then I wouldn't be using what Calla told me." "Fair enough.”

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“There's the apple's crisp texture and mildly sweet flavor. The onions, which have been simmered to a smooth softness... ... and the crunchy, salty bacon on top, cooked to crispy perfection. But the apples really holds the spotlight. Its mild sweetness spreading throughout the risotto. It's gentle caress... ... gradually wakes you from your slumber. Like the soft kiss... ... of a prince!”

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Book:食戟のソーマ 6 [Shokugeki no Souma 6]
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“Once the food is cool enough, I eat as though I'm starving. The potatoes' skins squeak when I bite into them; the risotto tastes of soft, pungent scapes; the freshly cut asparagus is so crisp and sweet you could almost mistake it for fruit. Merriem smiles at me. We are all holding our stomachs by the time Merriem clears the table and brings out dessert, a bright pink and sticky rhubarb tart dotted with edible flowers. She doles out big scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream with a silver spoon she affectionately refers to as "the shovel," then adds a chunk of honeycomb each of our bowls alongside wedges of the tart.”

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Book:Season of Salt and Honey
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“It's tricky to make a truly great risotto, but it seems so simple that everyone tries. As a result, there are a lot of horrible risottos being served in restaurants around the globe. I suppose we wanted to prove that none of those horrible risottos will be found in our restaurants." "And hopefully our risottos won't be as dry as our reason for wanting to make risotto," Hadley added, apparently feeling the need to turn Renowned into an open mic comedy night.”

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Book:Hadley Beckett's Next Dish
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“Thin, like paper, light and doughy in the middle, crisp and delicate as honeycomb at the edges, the appam is tempting even before it is filled with a ladle of lush vegetable curry. It shares many of the attributes of a pikelet or crumpet, a round disc of batter, bland and comforting, but stretched until its edges are as fine and crisp as Belgian lace. Of all the yeasted dough goods throughout the world, the appam is the lightest and, at its best, the most fragile.”

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Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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“I watched as Ian pulls the cooked squash out of the oven and drops it on the part of the cooktop that is currently not in use to let it cool for a moment while he mixes honey vinegar and a touch of brown sugar into thick crème fraîche, tasting along the way with the spoons I keep in a little cup on the stovetop. Satisfied with the crema, he turns back to the food processor, where he has chopped the pistachios, shallots, olives, and herbs, and empties out the contents into a bowl, adding a splash of the honey vinegar, a pinch of red pepper flakes, and a healthy glug of olive oil. He tastes, adds salt and a good grinding of black pepper, tastes again, and nods, pleased with himself. "Ten minutes to go," I say, checking my phone. "Keep talking me through things." Ian reaches for a large flour tortilla and places it in a dry nonstick skillet. "I'm going to assemble the quesadilla now," he says, sprinkling shredded fontina cheese over the whole surface of the tortilla. He dots the shredded cheese with small bits of fresh goat cheese. "I'm using fontina because it melts well and is mild, and some chèvre for a bit of punch and creaminess. Now the pork." He has sliced the pork thin, and layers it over the cheeses, following with cubes of the roasted squash.”

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Book:How to Change a Life
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“She covered the bread dough with plastic wrap and put it in the sun, she pulled out her blender and added the ingredients for the pots de crème: eggs, sugar, half a cup of her morning coffee, heavy cream, and eight ounces of melted Schraffenberger chocolate. What could be easier? The food editor of the Calgary paper had sent Marguerite the chocolate in February as a gift, a thank-you- Marguerite had written this very recipe into her column for Valentine's Day and reader response had been enthusiastic. (In the recipe, Marguerite had suggested the reader use "the richest, most decadent block of chocolate available in a fifty-mile radius. Do not- and I repeat- do not use Nestlé or Hershey's!") Marguerite hit the blender's puree button and savored the noise of work. She poured the liquid chocolate into ramekins and placed them in the fridge. Porter had been wrong about the restaurant, wrong about what people would want or wouldn't want. What people wanted was for a trained chef, a real authority, to show them how to eat. Marguerite built her clientele course by course, meal by meal: the freshest, ripest seasonal ingredients, a delicate balance of rich and creamy, bold and spicy, crunchy, salty, succulent. Everything from scratch. The occasional exception was made: Marguerite's attorney, Damian Vix, was allergic to shellfish, one of the selectmen could not abide tomatoes or the spines of romaine lettuce. Vegetarian? Pregnancy cravings? Marguerite catered to many more whims than she liked to admit, and after the first few summers the customers trusted her. They stopped asking for their steaks well-done or mayonnaise on the side. They ate what she served: frog legs, rabbit and white bean stew under flaky pastry, quinoa.”

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Book:The Love Season
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