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“Angelina simmered the veal shanks all afternoon in homemade chicken stock and vermouth, with shallots, garlic, and dried herbs. She made fresh egg noodles and an antipasto of spicy pickled vegetables she had put up herself the week before. When the veal had fully imparted its subtle but unmistakable flavor to the braising liquid, and the meat was beginning to bid a bond farewell to the bones, Angelina retrieved and strained the pan juices, reducing them before carefully adding eggs and cream for a thick and lustrous sauce that she brightened with a squeeze of lemon before she ladled it all over big platters of egg noodles and garnished the dishes generously with parsley and capers.”

Quote by Brian O'Reilly

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Angelina's Bachelors

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Brian O'Reilly

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“All of a sudden the veal is in front of me and the smell of it is intoxicating. I could pick it up in my hands and bite right to the bone, like the wild animal I have become. But no. I look at it, study it. I analyze how it's been cooked, prod it with the tip of my knife, then make an incision: pink blood- some water, a bit of juice, nothing really- oozes out and blends with the brown sauce where Chinese artichokes drift past green beans so fine they look like chive stems, only firmer.”

“Chef Ferrero had taken charge of the main dish himself. Tender veal cutlets had been dipped in beaten eggs and seasoned flour, then lightly seared and served in a dark brown sauce. The presentation was completed with a sprinkle of lavender leaves and marigold petals- green and gold, like a spring morning- and served with a loaf of crusty bread rather than the customary glazed onions.”

“There is no such creature as a “farm animal,” except human beings, who have spent considerable time farming down through history. Other species, such as turkeys and pigs, are exploited on farms, by humans. As such, they are “farmed” animals. Similarly, there is no such thing as a “veal calf” or a “lab animal,” though there are millions of calves and mice who are systematically exploited by ranchers, experimenters, and consumers. There is also no such thing as seafood, only sea creatures who are exploited by others for food or profit.”

“There is a sacred horror about everything grand. It is easy to admire mediocrity and hills; but whatever is too lofty, a genius as well as a mountain, an assembly as well as a masterpiece, seen too near, is appalling. Every summit seems an exaggeration. Climbing wearies. The steepnesses take away one's breath; we slip on the slopes, we are hurt by the sharp points which are its beauty; the foaming torrents betray the precipices, clouds hide the mountain tops; mounting is full of terror, as well as a fall. Hence, there is more dismay than admiration. People have a strange feeling of aversion to anything grand. They see abysses, they do not see sublimity; they see the monster, they do not see the prodigy.”

“Had Martha Foley returned William [James Sidis]'s passion as Margaret [Engemann] did Norbert [Wiener]'s, perhaps the two prodigies would have had more in common in the long run. ... In the life of a prodigy, perhaps more than in the average life, a marriage or a requited love is the greatest single factor that can heal the old childhood wounds. William and Norbert's response to their childhood and teenage rejections and humiliations was to retreat into the painless world of ideas, where successes and satisfactions abounded. A successful love affair could be the key to reentry into the world of feeling, bridging the gap between the cerebral and the emotional lives.”