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Quote by Fred Barnett

“Bernie let out the most pitiful wail heard since that god-forsaken day in 1942 when Bambi’s mom was shot.”

Quote by Fred Barnett

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Fred Barnett

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“C'est à René Cassin que nous devons le terme de droits « universels » et non « internationaux » comme le proposaient nos amis anglo-saxons. Car là est bien l'enjeu au sortir de la seconde guerre mondiale : s'émanciper des menaces que le totalitarisme a fait peser sur l'humanité. Pour s'en émanciper, il faut obtenir que les États membres de l'ONU s'engagent à respecter ces droits universels. C'est une manière de déjouer l'argument de pleine souveraineté qu'un État peut faire valoir alors qu'il se livre à des crimes contre l'humanité sur son sol. Ce fut le cas d'Hitler qui s'estimait maître chez lui et autorisé à provoquer un génocide.”

“Raw persimmon is an acquired taste," he said, handing me a slice, "but I have a feeling you'll like this one." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 'I'm a baker, Ogden,' I wanted to say. 'Of course I know what persimmon tastes like.' I bit into the fruit. It had the texture of a firm heirloom tomato and a heady, semisweet taste as though infused with a tiny drop of honey. I nodded and made a sound of approval. "You didn't order any, but I brought you a few to try anyway. I wondered if maybe they might inspire a new cupcake flavor for the holidays," Ogden said. He kept his serious brown eyes trained on the persimmon in his hand while he spoke, a gesture that seemed oddly bashful and entirely unlike him. "You'll have to excuse me if that sounds presumptuous. I'll be the first to admit I know nothing about the recipe creation process." I took another bite of persimmon, considering. Ogden held himself very still as he watched me chew, and I appreciated the restraint he showed in not jumping in to fill the silence. I knew it couldn't have been easy for him. "You have good instincts," I said finally. "A persimmon cupcake could be a great addition to the menu. Add some chocolate, a little cinnamon and cardamom, some sweet vanilla icing, and I think we'd have a new Christmas favorite." "You don't think persimmon is too adventurous for your patrons?" "Nah," I said. It was actually nice to talk to someone who took food as seriously as I did- I only wished he could do so without sounding so pompous. "But we might have to lead with the chocolate. Chocolate Persimmon Spice. That wouldn't offend you, would it? If I promised to use organic chocolate?" "I think my ego can handle a little organic chocolate," Ogden said.”

“Although she didn't have Dina's magical ability to imbibe food and drink with magical comfort, she still loved the process of baking. Measuring out the dry and wet ingredients, pouring it all in the baking tray, and crouching by the oven every now and again to make sure it was rising as expected. While she waited for the pie to bake, Rosemary noted a few ideas down for the early scenes of the script adaptation of Julia, which was coming along nicely. The room was filled with the scent of nutmeg, cinnamon, and caramelized pecans that she would use as a topping, as well as the buttery, fruity scent of the pie itself.”

“If there is a small silver lining to my continued unemployment, it is that I have increased my hours at the farmers' market, where I am surrounded by people who love growing and making food as much as I love eating, reading, and writing about it. Every market brings with it a new sensory adventure: the toothsome crunch of Rick's millet muffins, the brazen tang of his sourdough, the sharp and herbaceous scent of his cheddar dill scones. Instead of trying to force a food connection like I did at The Morning Show, I now live and breathe an agricultural smorgasbord on an almost daily basis, poring over luscious apples and lumpy, bumpy squash and fat loaves of buttery brioche. In a strange way, despite the meager pay, I finally feel as if I'm where I belong.”