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Quote by Judith Fertig

“She couldn't see the homemade colored sprinkles, the tender yellow cake, or the pale pink frosting made with strawberry syrup enhanced with a little rosewater. Although our local strawberries weren't in season yet, I had conjured the aroma and taste of juicy berries warmed by the sun. I hoped this flavor would help the two old people return once more to their youth and the carefree feeling of a summer day.”

Quote by Judith Fertig

Book:The Cake Therapist
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The Cake Therapist

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Judith Fertig

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“A cookie, Avis told her children, is a soul. She held up the wafer, its edges shimmering with ruby-dark sugar. "You think it looks like a tiny thing, right? Just a little nothing. But then you take a bite." Four-year-old Felice lifted her face. Avis fanned her daughter's eyes closed with her fingertips and placed it in Felice's mouth. Felice opened her sheer eyes. Lamb slid his orange length against her ankles. Avis handed a cookie to eight-year-old Stanley, who held it up to his nose. "Does that taste good?" she asked. Felice nodded and opened her mouth again. "It smells like flowers," Stanley said. "Yes." Avis paused, a cookie balanced on her spatula. "That's the rosewater. Good palate, darling." "Mermaids eat roses," Felice said. "Then they melt.”

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Book:Birds of Paradise
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“After showering I like one of the oldest concoctions in the world—rosewater and glycerin. I once asked a lovely lady in her eighties how she kept the skin of a baby, and that was what she used. I carry around little tubes of rosewater and glycerin to use on my hands EVERY TIME I WASH THEM, and I always work it up my arms and into my elbows. Women hardly ever look at their own elbows, but other people do! I pay attention to my knees and ankles, too. All the joints seem to dry out faster than the fleshy parts of the body.”

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Book:My Way of Life
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“I arrive back at my lodgings to a battered-tin dish of dried apricots in syrup. Small and plump, round rather than oval, and freckled with rust. I dip a spoon into the syrup, a pretty spoon battered and bent from years of service, and sip the heavily chilled, sweet liquor. Lighter than that used to soak gulab jamun, the heavy, sticky balls of dough I have consumed with nothing short of gluttony on this trip, but thinner and less cloying and with the faintest breath of rosewater. I sit in peace on the cool veranda with my tin dish of apricots like dumpy cherubs and with the dry citrus dust of ground ginger still in my hair.”

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Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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“The fruits scorch in the fierce heat. The smell of plum jam fills the kitchen. Flesh bubbles, edges blacken, plum juices burst from their skins and mingle with the honey and lemon. Twenty minutes later they emerge, collapsed in a pool of deepest purple-red. I twist the lid from a bottle of rosewater, hand-made, no label, and shake drops over the scorched fruit. A scent of rose, sweet fruit and honey. We let the fruit rest for ten minutes. The roasted plums are served on an old tin dish, a mound of salted labneh at their side, the juices seeping into the soft, thick yoghurt like lipstick into a pantomime dame's pancake make-up. I rain a pinch of dried rose petals over the surface and offer them up. We spoon the soft fruit and labneh into our mouths, then lift the dishes to our lips to drink the last drop of rose-perfumed juice.”

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Book:A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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“Life isn’t meant to be lived perfectly…but merely to be LIVED. Boldly, wildly, beautifully, uncertainly, imperfectly, magically LIVED.”

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Book:The Single Woman–Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass: Embracing Singleness with Confidence
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“It is much more difficult to see how it will ever be possible to abandon a system of provision for the aged under which each generation, by paying for the needs of the preceding one, acquires a similar claim to support by the next. It would almost seem as if such a system, once introduced, would have to be continued in perpetuity or allowed to collapse entirely. The introduction of such a system therefore puts a strait jacket on evolution and places on society a steadily growing burden from which it will in all probability again and again attempt to extricate itself by inflation.”

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Book:The Constitution of Liberty
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“Hispanic households are more likely than blacks to use “means-tested” programs, or what we consider welfare. In 2005, fully half of all Hispanic families used welfare programs as opposed to 47 percent for black, and 18 percent for whites. Welfare use rises from the second to the third generation of Mexican immigrants. The Center for Immigration Studies found that every household of illegal immigrants consumed an estimated $2,700 more in federal government services in 2002 than it paid in federal taxes, adding about $10.4 billion to the deficit. The largest federal costs were Medicaid ($2.5 billion), medical treatment for the uninsured ($2.2 billion), food assistance ($1.9 billion), prisons ($1.6 billion), and school aid ($1.4 billion). These figures do not include state and local spending. Non-citizens are ineligible for many forms of welfare. The study therefore concluded that if illegal immigrants were legalized, their increased welfare use would nearly triple the net federal outflow per family from $2,700 a year to $7,700 a year. Some defenders of immigration claim it will save social security. It will not. Immigrants grow old, just like everyone else, and many bring their aged parents from their home country. They would contribute to the health of social security only if their earnings were well above the native average, which they are not. A study by the Center for Immigration Studies concludes that there is likely to be a Social Security payments crunch, but immigration will not be the solution: “Americans will simply have to look elsewhere to deal with this problem.”

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Book:White Identity: Racial Consciousness in the 21st Century
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