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Quote by Joanne Harris

“I look into the chocolaterie. It looks warm in there, almost intimate. Candles are burning on the tables; the Advent window is lit with a rose glow. It smells of orange and clove from the pomander hanging above the door; of pine from the tree; of the mulled wine that we are serving alongside our spiced hot chocolate; and of fresh gingerbread straight out of the oven. It draws them in- three or four at a time- regulars and strangers and tourists alike. They stop at the window, catch the scent, and in they come, looking a little dazed, perhaps, at the many scents and colors and all their favorites in their little glass boxes- bitter orange cracknel; mendiants du roi; hot chili squares; peach brandy truffle; white chocolate angel; lavender brittle- all whispering inaudibly- Try me. Taste me. Test me.”

Quote by Joanne Harris

Book:The Girl with No Shadow
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The Girl with No Shadow

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Author

Joanne Harris
Joanne Harris

Joanne Harris is a British author known for her fantasy and literary novels. Born on July 3, 1964, she graduated from the University of Cambridge. Harris's works often blend romance, mystery, and supernatural elements, enjoying great popularity among readers. more

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“Who is Zozie? I ask myself. Those eyes see much farther than dishes to be washed, or a banknote folded under the rim of a plate. Blue eyes are easier to read, and yet the trick of the trade that has served me so often- if not so well- along the years, for some reason fails to work at all with her. Some people are like that, I tell myself. But dark or light, soft-centered or brittle, bitterest orange or rose cream or manon blanc or vanilla truffle, I have no idea whether she even likes chocolate at all, still less her favorite. So- why is it I think that she knows mine?”

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Book:The Girl with No Shadow
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“But Zozie was already making plans- seemingly unaware of the impact of that casual word- plans for a line of handmade truffles, the simplest of all chocolates to make; and then, perhaps some mendiants- my own favorites- sprinkled with almonds, sour cherries, and fat yellow sultanas. I could do it with my eyes closed. Even a child can make mendiants, and Anouk had often helped me in the days of Lansquenet, selecting the plumpest raisins, the sweetest cranberries (always keeping a generous portion aside for herself), and arranging them on the discs of melted chocolate, dark or light, in careful designs.”

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Book:The Girl with No Shadow
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“She buys only the best couverture, from a fair trade supplier down near Marseille, and pays for it all in cash. A dozen blocks of each kind, to begin with, she says; but I already know from her eager response that a dozen blocks will not be enough. She used to make all her own stock, so she tells me, and though I'll admit I didn't quite believe it at first, the way she has thrown herself back into the business tells me that she was not exaggerating. The process is deft and peculiarly therapeutic to watch. First comes the melting and tempering of the raw couverture: the process that enables it to leave its crystalline state and take on the glossy, malleable form necessary to make the chocolate truffles. She does it all on a granite slab, spreading out the melted chocolate like silk and gathering it back toward her using a spatula. Then it goes back into the warm copper, the process to be repeated until she declares it done. She rarely uses the sugar thermometer. She has been making chocolates for so long, she tells me, that she can simply sense when the correct temperature has been reached. I believe her; certainly over the past three days I have been watching her, she has never produced a less than flawless batch. During that time I have learned to observe with a critical eye: to check for streaks in the finished product; for the unappealing pale bloom that denotes incorrectly tempered chocolate; for the high gloss and sharp snap that are the indicators of good-quality work.”

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Book:The Girl with No Shadow
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“Zozie was still watching me with that patient half-smile, as if she expected me to say something more. When I didn't, she simply shrugged and held out a dish of mendiants. She makes them as I do myself: the chocolate thin enough to snap but thick enough to satisfy; a generous sprinkle of fat raisins; a walnut, an almond; a violet; a crystallized rose. "Try one," she said. "What do you think?" The gunpowder scent of chocolate arose from the little dish of mendiants, smelling of summer and lost time. He had tasted of chocolate when I first kissed him; and the scent of damp grass had come from the ground where we had lain side by side; and his touch had been unexpectedly soft, and his hair like summer marigolds in the dying light- Zozie was still holding out the dish of mendiants. It's made of blue Murano glass, with a little gold flower on the side. It's only a bauble, and yet I'm fond of it. Roux gave it to me in Lansquenet, and I have carried it with me ever since, in my luggage, in my pockets, like a touchstone. I looked up and saw Zozie looking at me. Her eyes were a distant, fairytale blue, like something you might see in dreams. "You won't tell anyone?" I said. "Of course not." She picked up a chocolate between delicate fingers and held it out for me to take. Rich, dark chocolate, rum-soaked raisins, vanilla, rose, and cinnamon... "Try one, Vianne," she said with a smile. "I happen to know they're your favorites.”

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Book:The Girl with No Shadow
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“Besides, we have more chocolates to deliver in Les Marauds; coconut truffles for Omi; rose and cardamom for Fatima and her daughters; chili for old Mahjoubi, that warms the heart and brings courage. And one more package, for Inès; tied with a red silk ribbon. The gift that crosses all cultures; that brings a smile to the sourest face; that pulls back the years and takes us to a simpler, sweeter time.”

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Book:Peaches for Father Francis
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