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Quote by Misba

“You keep an ancient lock with a scanner while the balcony is open?” he asks. “Who will steal from an archeologist who gets no gold and camps temporarily in a forest?” Mee-Hae replies. “Ten years doesn’t sound temporary.” “Ten years is a blink for a seventy-year-old High Grade,” Mee-Hae says. “But you’re avoiding my question, Yagmur. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Quote by Misba

Book:The Oldest Dance
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The Oldest Dance

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Misba

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“He reached up for his elegant neck cloth and began to unfasten it, and she watched his long, pale, bejeweled fingers in something of a daze. He pulled the cloth free, his shirt coming open, and she averted her gaze from the disturbing sight of his bare chest. She heard his laugh, and then his hands were on her once more, catching her shoulders and turning her around. "Don't worry, my pet. You won't be seeing anything that might shock you." And he pulled the neck cloth over her eyes, effectively blinding her. She wanted to fight back, to struggle, but that would give him an excuse to touch her further, and the less she felt the brush of his cool fingers the better. "That's right," he said, his voice soft and approving. "Now give me your arm and we'll give you a taste of damnation." "Do you really find blasphemy that entertaining?" she said, trying not to start when he took her hand and placed it on his arm. "Always." She'd never put her hand on any arm that wasn't covered by layers of clothing, including a coat. The devil who oversaw these revels, be he Monsieur le Comte or something else, wore only a thin shirt made of the finest lawn. In her sudden world of darkness she was acutely aware of the feel of his arm beneath her fingers. The sinew and bone. The unexpected warmth of his skin, when his hands and his heart were so cold.”

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Book:Ruthless
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“The cycles of humankind – sheep in control of sheep – were part of an ingenious process taught to errand boys that were in charge of supervising others like them. No pawn or errand boy knows the Truth. No sheep or shepherd managed to escape their fate. As long as humankind exists, there will be betrayals and murders.”

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Author:Robert Neil Flieischer
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“The Molinas' entourage of bakers stream through Sugar's doors with trays brimming with lavender-colored surpresas de uva, brigadeiros, and bem-casados under protective plastic films, which they load into the back of the van. And then they bring out a full tray of empadinhas! Even from my spot across the street, I see the dough flaky and golden like Grandma's recipe. The thing is, everyone knows that only Salt makes empadinhas on our street. That's the deal our families made generations ago, when our great-grandmothers drew the battle lines: Ramires only prepare savory foods. Molinas only prepare sweets. Sugar crossed the line baking empadinhas, and they know it. Those shameless, dishonest, garbage snakes!”

RivalryPastriesBakeriesSweet And SavoryBrazilianSalt And Sugar
Book:Salt and Sugar
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“Great-grandma Elisa Ramires was a promising cook at an inn. The job was her only opportunity to raise Grandma on her own, so she made herself famous with a buttery, delicately savory fubá cake recipe. Dona Elizabete Molina had been at the inn longer than Great-grandma, and she was also famous for her own recipe. Milk pudding. It was said to be so smooth it slid on your tongue. The two were often at odds. They each wanted to prove to the neighborhood who was the best cook in town, and the opportunity came about with a cooking contest. The night before the contest, Great-grandma and Dona Elizabete were busy preparing their entry dishes and tending to the many guests at the inn. It was a busy night, with many tourists in town for Carnival. Nerves frazzled, shoulder to shoulder, and vying for space in the small kitchen, the story goes that the cooks accidentally tripped each other and sent their cake and pudding flying off the trays. Miraculously, the layers stacked up. Dona Elizabete's milk pudding landed atop Great-grandma's fubá cake. Maybe Dona Elizabete held the tray at the right angle until the last second and the pudding had enough surface tension to just slide off the right way without breaking. Maybe Great-grandma's cake was firm enough to hold the delicate layer of pudding atop. Whatever the case, they tried this new, accidental two-layered cake and realized that their recipes complemented each other beautifully. When they passed samples around to the guests, their reaction was proof that they'd produced perfection. No one remembers if they still entered the contest. Because from that moment on, the only thing everyone could talk about was their new recipe, the one they called "Salt and Sugar". One layer fubá cake, one layer pudding.”

CakeAssumptionsAncestorsPuddingBook TitleFamily RecipesSalt And Sugar
Book:Salt and Sugar
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