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Quote by Bill Bryson

“Incidentally, the long-held idea that spices were used to mask rotting food doesn't stand up to much scrutiny. The only people who could afford most spices were the ones least likely to have bad meat, and anyway spices were too valuable to be used as a mask.”

Quote by Bill Bryson

Work

At Home: A Short History of Private Life

This book delves into the historical transformation of homes, examining how they have shaped our daily lives and social interactions throughout various eras. more

Author

Bill Bryson
Bill Bryson

Bill Bryson, born on December 8, 1951, is a British author known for his humorous and knowledgeable writing. His works span across various fields, including travel literature, natural history, and science popularization. more

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“I'll have the pork vindaloo. Extra hot." He puffed out his chest. He'd acquired a taste for Indian food after the years he'd spent sharing meals at the Patel home, although he hadn't had food as good in many years. "It's too hot for me the way they make it," Daisy said. "I wouldn't even consider asking them to raise the heat." "I ate at your house every night and your dad made his curry extra hot. I miss that burn." Daisy's lips quirked at the corners. "He said it was extra hot so he didn't crush your ego, but in fact he kept the heat down when you were around. What he called 'extra hot' is actually a restaurant mild. His real extra hot would blow your mind." "You don't scare me," Liam said. "I'm not changing my mind." "Stubborn and ungrateful." Daisy smirked. "I'm going to enjoy listening to your screams of pain." "Is that your idea of a good date? Screams of pain?" She smiled, amused. "I don't date often. I usually just hook up with someone for the night.”

“She looked at the gold-appointed dashboard. "It's cute." "The gas guzzler thanks you," he said, not bothering to curb his sarcasm. "She's probably never carried an outstanding surgeon before." Her only response was a weary look. Obviously, he wasn't the only one dreading the afternoon ahead. But there was something so tired about her eyes that despite himself he felt like an arse. What was it about this woman that made him want to be a prick? Oh yeah, it was the fact that she was a callous snob and she made him feel like- what was the phrase?- ah, the hired help.”

“It's a creamy lobster mashed potato, but it's so much more than that. She can taste the the sweet meat of the shellfish, the salinity of the butter, the earthiness of finely chopped chives. The potatoes are soft, lighter than air, almost like they've been whipped for hours. Eden determines that he's used brie instead of cheddar, giving the whole thing a much milder taste.”

“As he walked past the newsstand, he couldn't help sniffing the air, searching for hints of bacon, coconut, and vanilla. Combined with John's declaration that he needed to get laid, he couldn't get that smell off his mind, or her adorable freckles, or the broken expression on her face as she blew past him on the sidewalk. Such a marvelous creature deserved someone who understood her talents- someone like him, perhaps.”