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Father Daughter Bond Quotes

Browse 9 quotes about Father Daughter Bond.

Father Daughter Bond Quotes

“We ate three tiny, geometrically engineered appetizers, including a perfect cube of kabocha squash-flavored fish cake and an octopus "salad" consisting of one tiny piece of octopus brushed with a plum dressing. Then the waitress uncovered and lit the burner in the center of the table and set a shallow cast-iron pan on top. She poured a thin layer of sauce from a pitcher. Sukiyaki is all about the sauce, a mixture of soy sauce, mirin, sake, and sugar. It's frankly sweet. Usually I'm a tiresome person who complains about overly sweet food, but where soy sauce is involved, I make an exception, because soy sauce and sugar were born to hang. The waitress set down a platter of thin-sliced Wagyu beef, so marbled that it was nearly white. She asked if we wanted egg. This time I was prepared: only for me, thanks. Then she cooked us each a slice of beef. It was tender enough to cut with your tongue against the roof of your mouth. While we sighed over the meat, she began adding other ingredients to the pan: napa cabbage, tofu, wheat gluten (fu), fresh shiitake mushrooms, shirataki noodles, chrysanthemum leaves (shungiku), and, of course, negi. Suggested tourist slogan: Tokyo: We put negi in it. Then we were left to cook the rest of the meat and vegetables ourselves. I think we nailed it. (Actually, it's impossible to do it wrong.) Like chanko nabe and all Japanese hot pots, sukiyaki gets better as the meal goes on, because the sauce becomes more concentrated and soaks up more flavor from the ingredients cooking in it.”

IngredientsAppetizersSaucesSoy SauceFather Daughter BondSukiyaki
Book:Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo
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“Your life would have been very different if you'd been raised here." "How so?" "Well, for starters, you would have been given two very specific names. The first would be an official name that ended in -nomiya. It means imperial member." Right. His name. Makotonomiya. "The second would be a personal name. Scholars would have drafted a list of options. I would have picked one, then sent my choice to the emperor. For approval, of course." "Of course." "The emperor would have written your anointed names on washi paper and placed them in a lacquered cypress box with the gold chrysanthemum emblem. The box would have been sent to the palace, then to the hospital and placed on your pillow, right next to your head," he says in a low, warm voice. "After the naming ritual, you would have been bathed in a cedar tub." "That sounds nice." He swirls the liquid in his glass. "A floral emblem would have been chosen for you." My breath makes little clouds. The fireworks are over. Near the pond, fireflies appear, dancing over the water in concentric circles. It's cold. Even so, I'm not ready to go inside yet. "What would you have chosen?" My eyes are as wide as saucers. My heart is open. I want this to work so badly. I want my life to be different. Better. More whole. Superhero epic. "I chose the purple iris." The vase in my room----a single iris. He thought about me. He cares. My eyes sting. I bat my lashes against the tears. If he asks about them, I'll say it's the breeze. "It stands for purity and wisdom.”

SymbolicTraditionsDifferent LifeFather Daughter BondSurnameEmblem
Book:Tokyo Ever After
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“The good father does not have to be perfect. Rather, he has to be good enough to help his daughter to become a woman who is reasonably self-confident, self-sufficient, and free of crippling self-doubt, and to feel at ease in the company of men.”

ParentingFathersFathers And DaughtersFather Daughter RelationshipFather Daughter Bond
Book:Women and Their Fathers: The Sexual and Romantic Impact of the First Man in Your Life
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“Django handed her a heap of parsley and she stood next to him, allowing his rhythm to become her own until they were moving together. In the air, the tang of lemons. The aroma of chicken stock. Beeswax mingling with butter. Chocolate melting into oranges. Her spirits rose with the scents swirling through the kitchen. They spoke little; they had no need. They were a team, their minds melded more effortlessly than Stella had imagined possible. They massaged butter into chickens, boned fish, opened oysters. Django set a flat of speckled eggs on the counter. Next to it, a ceramic bowl. He opened his hands and Stella broke the eggs, dozens of them, across his outstretched fingers, watching yolks separate from whites. It occurred to her that she had tortured herself for no reason. She was happy.”

True HappinessFrench CookingFather Daughter Bond
Book:The Paris Novel
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“Well, then, mademoiselle, shall I take you to the Riviera?'" "'Yes,'" -Camille smiled- "'I'd like that.' 'Have you brought your bathing suit?' he'd ask. 'Perfect. And an evening gown as well! We must go to the casino. Don't forget your silver fox coat, it can be cool in Monte Carlo in the evening.' There was a nice smell inside the car. The smell of well-worn leather... It was all so lovely, I remember. The crystal ashtray, the vanity mirror, the tiny little handle to roll the window down, the inside of the glove compartment, the wood. Its was like a flying carpet. 'With a bit of luck we'll get there before nightfall,' he promised. Yes, he was that kind of man, my dad, a big dreamer who could shift gears on a car up on blocks for hours on end and take me to the far corners of the earth in a suburban garage. He was really into opera, too, so wee listened to Don Carlos, La Traviata or The Marriage of Figaro during the trip. He would tell me the stories: Madame Butterfly's sorrow, the impossible love of Pelléas and Mélisande- when he confesses, 'I have something to tell you' and then he can't; the stories with the countess and her Cherub who hides all the time, or Alcina, the beautiful witch who turned her suitors into wild animals.”

OperaReminiscingFather Daughter Bond
Book:Hunting and Gathering
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“No, it's cutlass fish hot pot tonight. Just as tasty as making it with hamo eel, I reckon." Koishi's eyes lit up. "Phew. There's the dad I know! That really will go well with a cup of sake." "I picked the fish up from the market in Oita," said Nagare, retrieving the styrofoam box from the fridge. "It's a special brand--- Kunisaki Gintachi. I figured we could use it the same way we use hamo eel here in Kyoto, so I really stocked up." "Fewer bones then hamo too," said Koishi as she carefully wiped the counter down. "It'll be less of a pain to cook.”

FishFather Daughter BondCutlass
Book:The Restaurant of Lost Recipes
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“But she relished everything about distilling day: the way the sun warmed her scalp through her hair on a midsummer’s morning, the sweet scent of delicate Carolina roses, the breeze full of birdsong—- bluebirds and orioles, crows and cardinals—- warning each other of the Strongs’ intrusion. But mostly she loved being with her father. Out here in the woods, he walked upright, moving with a freedom and purpose he lacked out in the field or in the barnyard. In those places, he seemed bent, bowed. Not like this tall, long-striding daddy who whistled the birds’ songs back to them, who taught her how to perfectly imitate their calls. It made Shine wish she favored him more—- but Elsie was blond and blue-eyed like Hiram and Rebecca got his length along with her mother’s dark hair and eyes. But I got his magic. She loved their secret, almost mystical spot and the idea that no one knew exactly where they were. Shine and her daddy were in their own world.”

Magical RealismShineFather Daughter BondOutdoor LivingFamily Geneology
Book:The Moonshine Women
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