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Quote by Elizabeth Bard

“He took out a carrot and thee onion half. I'm not sure I'd ever seen anyone use half an onion. Or rather, I'd never seen anyone save half an onion he hadn't used. The real secret ingredient, however, was the package of lardons fumés- plump little Legos of pork- deep pink and marbled with fat. He dumped them into a pan with the chopped vegetables (he may have washed the pan from the charlotte), and the mixture began sizzling away. A box of tagliatelle, the pasta spooled like birds' nests, completed the meal.”

Quote by Elizabeth Bard

Book:Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes
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Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes

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Elizabeth Bard

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“Mom's secret recipe used Meyer lemons for a sweeter, richer flavor. That was one of her tricks. That and European butter. With its higher fat content than American butter, it made a flakier crust. "Lolly, what are the three secret ingredients that make this the best lemon meringue pie in the world?" She'd drilled me that last night before she died, demanding I recite every ingredient, every step, until she was satisfied I had it down pat. "The three ingredients are Meyer lemons, European butter, and a leaf of lemon balm boiled into the syrup every time," I'd dutifully recited in her hospital room, feeling the weight of grief, of responsibility rest heavier on my shoulders with every word. Lemon balm was an unorthodox choice for pie, but Mom had loved cooking with edible flowers and herbs. She'd taught me everything I knew about them. I reached for the little lemon balm potted plant growing on the windowsill over the sink and carefully pinched off a leaf. "In the language of flowers, lemon balm means sympathy or good cheer," she'd explained once. "So every bite of this pie can help brighten someone's day." I crushed the leaf of lemon balm between my fingers and inhaled the scent, hoping it would work on me. No such luck. I dropped the leaf into the pot and stirred. Every time I made these pies I felt her presence. She had loved lemons---their sharp, fresh scent and cheerful hue. She would slice a lemon in half and sniff deeply, happily. "See, Lolly," she'd say. "Lemons brighten every day. They are a touch of kitchen magic, and we all need a little magic in our lives.”

LemonsMemories Of MotherSecret IngredientBalmLemon PieMeyerBrighten Up Your Day
Book:The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie
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“Luckily, we always had chicken legs in the fridge and plenty of soy sauce and brown sugar. But what else was in it? The salty sweetness was the dominant flavor, but it was more well-rounded than that. There was a depth and brightness. Calamansi! My eyes alit on the bottle of citrus juice we kept on hand when we couldn't find the fresh fruit. That must've been what she used. And what else... I closed my eyes, picturing myself at this kitchen table, the fragrant chicken piled on top of a steaming bowl of white rice, a tiny dribble of dark sauce squiggled across. I smiled and opened my eyes. Garlic. Of course.”

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“So is this the Grandma's Special?" The grin that bursts on my face almost cracks from the cold air. "Wow. My mom really does like you." Pepper is poised with it in front of her mouth and raises an eyebrow at me. "Do you trust me?" "Not a bit. Take a bite." She does, and I prop my head on my palm and lean in close enough she has to muffle a laugh as she chews. "Well?" I demand. "Finally willing to concede that our grilled cheese is vastly superior?" She looks like she's about to give a begrudging nod, but then her eyes go wide. "The secret ingredient." She peels apart the grilled cheese, staring at it and then up at me, her face so incredulous. "It's sweet bell peppers?”

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“Parmesan cheese?" Miller said. "We're not cooking Italian food." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, keep grating it, and when you're done, whisk it into those eggs. Now you know the secret ingredient of our fried chicken." Once the dredging pans were ready, I showed the young cooks through the four steps. They watched me closely. Ben, sweet baby--- bless him--- wrote everything down. The first step was to dry the chicken pieces with a paper towel, so they were tacky but not wet. This would enable the seasoning to stick to them. The secret here was not to salt too far in advance, because although salt helped enhance flavor, it also dried out meat. The second step was to dredge it in the flour mixed with cayenne pepper. After you shook off the excess flour, you put it into the mixture of eggs and grated Parmesan cheese. Finally, you dunked it into a second flour mixture that contained enough freshly ground black pepper to turn the mixture gray. This chicken was, as the kids say, fire, meaning it was so good. Its heat was balanced with the Parmesan cheese.”

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Book:My Magnolia Summer
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“Our family's gift is so old no one quite remembers when or how it all began. All I can do is tell you what was told to me by my mother when I was sixteen--- a story, I'm sure, that was told to her by her mother when she became of age. Our family is the keeper of an enchanted substance. To me, it is like sugar. Others have called it powder, sand, and even fairy dust. No matter what you call it, its power doesn't change, and the power it contains must be protected and respected. Our family's gift has the power to create. "Create what?" you might ask. Anything the pure heart desires. Our family has always had cooks, bakers, and medicine women. These professions are the perfect vehicle for using the substance, and this special gift chooses the next person in the family who will guard it. Once in a lifetime, the keeper of the gift is allowed to use it. There are no rules other than this--- it can only be used once by the keeper. How and when the keepers use the gift is up to them.”

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Book:The Baker's Man
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