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Quote by Karma Brown

“Richard had questioned their luncheon contribution, suggesting cookies were not hearty (or impressive) enough for the occasion. "You're such a good cook, Nellie," he'd said, but she knew what he really meant. He didn't think cookies made the right kind of statement for the Murdochs. But Richard knew nothing of feeding sadness- that was women's work- or how far a simple chocolate chip cookie could go to lift one's mood.”

Quote by Karma Brown

Book:Recipe for a Perfect Wife
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Recipe for a Perfect Wife

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Karma Brown

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“Freddie's short ribs were just how I like them, tender and smoky." Nina's eyes closed, as if she were savoring the dish all over again. Leo swallowed. Had the words tender and smoky ever sounded so... explicit? When she opened her eyes, he realized he'd been staring. He cleared his throat and looked away. "Well..." He searched for a question that didn't involve asking her to repeat smoky on a loop. Seriously, why had that sounded so hot?”

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“When the heavenly combination of sweet strawberries and gooey, fluffy pancakes exploded in my mouth, I let out a low, throaty moan that wasn't suitable for the breakfast table. Those girls he was talking about? Yeah, they knew what was up, because honestly, who wouldn't want to be eating these for the rest of their lives? Just for the pancakes alone, I'd marry him in a heartbeat. Men who can cook are hot AF. He was an excellent cook. Perhaps that first bite was a bit of a fluke. I was starving, so my tastebuds were probably warped. But when the second and third bites were followed by the second and third moans, it became obvious that his pancakes were making me experience something orgasmic. In fact, the closest thing I'd had to a non-battery-operated orgasm in a while. "Who are you?" I looked up to see him staring at me, his eyes darkening, and his fork suspended in midair. "Eric never mentioned his friend being a culinary genius." He slowly lowered the fork, his eyes still on mine. "Told you so." "Relax. I won't leap over this countertop and profess my undying love to you, or, God forbid, jump your bones." I speared the last piece, then wiped the remaining strawberry jam with it, making sure not to miss a single morsel. "Not even your pancake can make me like you." "Maybe my homemade waffles could change your mind." Glasses + pancakes + waffles? I could be in huge trouble.”

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“Alexander works diligently and with such care that her heart can't help but flutter. He preheats the oven, saws off four thick pieces of sourdough bread, spreads a generous layer of mayo instead of butter before searing to a perfect golden brown in a pan. Once browned, he uses a single clove of garlic and rubs it against the bread, giving an otherwise boring piece of toast that extra herbal kick. He's generous with the layers of cheese he applies--- in this case, sharp cheddar and mozzarella--- before he lays everything together, lovingly wraps the food up in a sheet of parchment paper, and pops it in the oven to melt. Once he's satisfied, he pulls the sandwich out and drizzles the top with the lightest trace of honey; a playful balance of sweet and salty. Alexander plates up without pomp or circumstance, returning to Eden with the fanciest grilled cheese she's ever eaten in her entire life.”

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