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Flavors Quotes

Browse 220 quotes about Flavors.

Flavors Quotes

“Former pastry chef Sam Mason opened Oddfellows in Williamsburg with two business partners in 2013 and has since developed upwards of two hundred ice cream flavors. Many aren't for the faint of heart: chorizo caramel swirl, prosciutto mellon, and butter, to name a few. Good thing there are saner options in the mix like peanut butter & jelly, s'mores, and English toffee. A retro scoop shop off Bowery, Morgenstern's Finest Ice Cream has been bringing fanciful flavors to mature palettes since opening in 2014. Creator Nicholas Morgenstern, who hails from the restaurant world, makes small batches of elevated offerings such as strawberry pistachio pesto, lemon espresso, and Vietnamese coffee. Ice & Vice hails from the Brooklyn Night Bazaar in Greenpoint, and owners Paul Kim and Ken Lo brought it to the Lower East Side in 2015. Another shop devoted to quality small batches, along with weird and wacky flavors, you'll find innovations like Farmer Boy, black currant ice cream with goat milk and buckwheat streusel, and Movie Night, buttered popcorn-flavored ice cream with toasted raisins and chocolate chips.”

New YorkIce CreamFlavorsFusionIce Cream Shoppe
Book:Brooklyn in Love: A Delicious Memoir of Food, Family, and Finding Yourself
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“Savor the fragrance." He gently squeezed the lacquer rim of the bowl to loosen the cover. I did the same and a savory jet stream of duck, citron, and toasted mochi rushed up from the bowl. I sipped the limpid broth. It had a delicate gamy flavor underscored with soy, minerals, and cured fish. The duck tasted juicy and tender. The carrot had a treacly crunch, while the gooey mochi draped with soft spinach had a smoky sweetness.”

FlavorsJapanese CuisineBrothMochi
Book:Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto
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“A special treat has been prepared----ayu, a troutlike fish caught in the Nagara River from the Gifu area. It is served whole over a bed of rice, once a currency and now a sacred grain. "Very fresh," the chef informs us with a proud smile. "Caught this morning." "It's considered a delicacy," my father says as the chef leaves. I haven't managed a taste yet. I'm watching my father, observing how he'll eat the fish. He brings the bowl to his face, then uses the ohashi to grasp the tiny sweetfish and take a bite, staring with the head. I blink. Oh, okay. That's how it's done. I pick up my ohashi and copy his moves. My teeth sink into the fish. I wait for my gag reflex to kick in, but it doesn't. The skin is crunchy and salty, but gives way to a softer, sweet inside, tasting like watermelon. My saliva glands kick into overdrive. Just like that, I'm all in. If ayu is on the menu, I'll have two.”

FlavorsDelicacyJapanese CuisineAyu
Book:Tokyo Ever After
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“By the time everyone was ready to leave, I was filling the last cream puff with pale green pastry cream. I licked a bit off my finger. It was good- an intriguing mix of warm pistachio, floral cardamom, and invigorating ginger. And ginger, of course, was a root. I only wished I knew what The Book would say about it. And was it good enough? Spotting the last of Mom's batch of kulfi- Indian ice cream made of thick sweetened cream and flavored with pistachio, ginger, and cardamom- had inspired me to make a pastry cream with the same flavors.”

IndianIce CreamFlavorsGingerCream PuffsPistachio
Book:Midsummer's Mayhem
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“At the Bernachon table, I stared at all the amazing flavors- espresso, orange, hazelnut, rum raisin- wondering how to choose. But it was simple: I let Denise do it. (And thank goodness. When I unwrapped my pâte d'amandine pistache chocolate bar back at the hotel, it was like inhaling vats of molten cocoa in a chocolate factory. Delicious without even taking a bite. Between the richness of the 62 percent cacao and the sweet grittiness of Sicilian pistachio paste, I thought I had ascended to chocolate heaven.)”

FlavorsPistachioChocolate Happiness
Book:Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light
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“She watched as he put a few ice cubes in a heavy glass, then expertly curled a strip of grapefruit rind from one of the fruits in a bowl on the bar top. "This must be a favorite," she commented, nodding at the supply of grapefruit nestled in the bowl along with the usual lemons and limes. He poured a generous measure from the black bottle and handed it to her with a cocktail napkin. "See for yourself." Gemma wasn't in the habit of drinking gin neat, so she sniffed, then took a tentative sip. The flavors exploded in her mouth- coriander and juniper and lime and... grapefruit. "Oh, wow," she said, when her eyes stopped watering. "That is amazing. I'm converted.”

NotesFlavorsGinGrapefruitFruity
Book:A Bitter Feast
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“Finally, let's talk about those Kit Kat bars. There is no flavor that can be embodied in Kit Kat form and sold in Japanese stores. Green tea. Black tea. Miso. Cherry blossom. Soy sauce. Toasted soybean powder (kinako). Chile. Orange. Melon. Only a few are available at any given time, and right now, evil geniuses at Nestlé are coming up with new flavors. I'd like to suggest okonomiyaki flavor, which would consist of a bag of assorted flavors (ginger, squid, mountain yam, egg) that could be combined in the proportions of your choice, just like a real okonomiyaki. Sauce and Kewpie mayo optional. We bought a SkyTree orange Kit Kat, was a regular orange Kit Kat in a preposterously long box, and the Yubari melon Kit Kat, which tasted exactly like melon, was sold in a fancy gift box, and cost $200. Two-thirds of that is true.”

JapanFlavorsFruityNatural FlavorsKitkats
Book:Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo
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“The fragrant berry scent informed me the fruit was perfectly ripe. I picked up the refrigerated bar and took a bite. The delectable crust had a nice texture and buttery flavor. The bar had a solid flavor profile and a nice crust-to-fruit ratio. It was a decent bar, good even. "Tell me." Jena Lynn's irritated tone let me know she was referring to her dough. Since it was too late to do anything about that now, I told her about the bar instead. "Well, they're good." I placed the bar back on the plate. "They would be great with some lemon zest to freshen them up, reduce the sugar because the fruit is sweet enough, and add a dash of cardamom. Replace the cornstarch with flour. It makes it too gummy. Then it'll be perfect.”

FlavorsSense Of TasteFruityCardamom
Book:Southern Sass and Killer Cravings
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“Three layers. Chocolate. Lemon. Pink champagne. The bride wanted lemons grown only in Sorrento. The groom claimed that chocolate made anywhere but Bruges was a waste of cacao. They both refused to consider any champagne but that of a bespoke label that produced only two hundred bottles of that variety a year, most of which were presold to a man in Chicago who, like most multimillionaires, didn't share his toys.”

FlavorsPreferencesWedding CakeSnobs
Book:Battle Royal
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“Most tourists, having done some research on Chicago delicacies, order their Italian beef sandwiches "wet," meaning that a slosh of extra meat gravy is dumped over the beef once it is in the bread. They think it means they are in the know, much as they do when they order a Chicago hot dog and tell the seller to "drag it through the garden." Chicagoans, almost to a person, order their dogs simply with "everything" if they want the seven classic toppings, and their Italian beef "dipped," meaning that the whole sandwich, once assembled, is grasped gently between tongs and completely submerged briefly in the vat of jus. This results in a sandwich that isn't just moist, it's decadently squooshy, in a way that sends rivulets of salty meaty juice down your arm when you eat. This is the sandwich that necessitated the invention of the Chicago Sandwich Stance, a method of eating with your elbows resting on your dining surface, leaning over to hopefully save shirtfronts and ties from a horrible meaty baptism. Dipped Italian beef sandwiches in Chicago require a full commitment. Once you start, you are all in till the last bit of slushy bread and shred of spicy beef is gone. It requires that beverages have straws and proximity. Because if you try to stop midway, to pop in a French fry, or pick up a cup, the whole thing will disintegrate before your very eyes. You can lean over to sip something as long as you don't let go of your grasp on the sandwich. Fries are saved for dessert. Most people wouldn't suspect how good iced coffee would be with Italian beef and French fries, but it is genius. My personal genius. Bringing sweet and bitter and cold to the hot, salty umami bomb of the sandwich and the crispy fries- insanely good.”

ChicagoSandwichesBeefFlavorsHot DogsAnneke Stroudt
Book:Recipe for Disaster
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“The wines were great, and better by the minute, even as the drinkers softened. Just as wines opened at the table, so the friends' thirst changed. Their tongues were not so keen, but curled, delighted, as the wines deepened. Nick's Latour was a classic Bordeaux, perfumed with black currant and cedar, perfectly balanced, never overpowering, too genteel to call attention to itself, but too splendid to ignore. Raj's Petrus, like Raj himself, more flamboyant, flashier, riper, ravishing the tongue. And then the Californian, which was in some ways richest, and in others most ethereal. George was sure the scent was eucalyptus in this Heitz, the flavor creamy with just a touch of mint, so that he could imagine the groves of silvery trees. The Heitz was smooth and silky, meltingly soft, perhaps best suited to George's tournedos, seared outside, succulent and pink within, juices running, mixing with the young potatoes and tangy green beans crisp enough to snap.”

FlavorsFood And WineWine TastingGeorge Friedman
Book:The Cookbook Collector
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“The Albert Boxler Riesling, not from Germany, but from Alsace, one of the high-end pours at twenty-six dollars a glass. And I was drinking it. Nicky had served it to me. To thank me. I rolled it through my mouth the way Simone had taught me, pursing my lips and cupping my tongue and almost making an inward whistle. I thought it would be sweet. I thought I tasted honey, or something like peaches. But then it was so dry it felt like someone had pierced me.”

FlavorsWine TastingAftertasteSweetbitter
Book:Sweetbitter
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“I begin to describe a three-tier cake. The bottom tier would be a deep, dark devil's food cake filled with thick chocolate custard. The middle tier would be a vanilla cake filled with a fluffy vanilla mousse and a layer of roasted strawberries. The top tier, designed to be removed whole and frozen for the first anniversary, would be one layer of chocolate cake and one of vanilla with a strawberry buttercream filling. The whole cake would be covered in a layer of vanilla buttercream, perfectly smoothed, and the tiers separated by a simple line of piped dots, looking like a string of pearls.”

DescriptionChocolateFlavorsVanillaWedding CakeFillingsTier Cake
Book:Wedding Girl
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“He opened the box and saw a tiny cake shaped like a bird's nest in three small round layers of tender, browned-butter vanilla cake with an apricot filling. A "nest" border of piped rum and mocha buttercream enclosed a clutch of pale blue marzipan eggs and a sugar-paste feather. The complicated yin and yang of rum and mocha, the "everybody loves" vanilla, Mr. Social white chocolate, tart and witty apricot, and artistic marzipan- all said "Gavin" to me.”

CakeFlavorsPersonality TraitsSocial ButterflyGavin Nichols
Book:The Cake Therapist
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“Berthillon's ice cream is dense and creamy--- served, in keeping with French rules of moderation, in golf-ball-size scoops. You have to be a real purist to order a simple (pronounced samp-le"). I usually ordered a double (doob-le"). Menthe (fresh mint), Créole (rum raisin), and nougat-miel (honey-nougat) are at the top of my list. But as good as the ice cream is, it's the sorbets that are Berthillon's real standouts. I almost always order cacao amer, a bitter chocolate sorbet so dark it's closing in on black. My second scoop depends on the season: pear, melon, rhubarb, or framboise à la rose (raspberry with a hint of rose). But habit often sets in and I go back to my old favorite: fraise des bois (wild strawberry). These tiny gem-like fruits are the equivalent of strawberry grenades, releasing a tart, concentrated flavor that downgrades every other strawberry I've tasted to the level of Bubblicious.”

Ice CreamFrenchFlavorsStrawberrySorbet
Book:Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes
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“The Rothschild is very lovely. You will be quite pleased. It reminds me of brown sugar, chocolate, and dried plum- very powerful and elegant. Let me show you. The color is remarkable." Escoffier uncorked the wine and slowly began to decant it in the candlelight, carefully leaving the sediment behind. "Amazing, isn't it? Rubies- those are the only things on this earth that are as beautiful as this is, are they not? No?" Gabetta watched as Escoffier deftly poured the ruby river of wine, gently, slowly and carefully. The musty air was filled with the particular lushness of late summer with its ripe cherries and tart apples.”

WineNotesFlavorsRothschildAuguste Escoffier
Book:White Truffles in Winter
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“I love the caraway seeds in the classic rye bread, but I wonder if the rich dough might not also hold up to other flavors. I jot down some notes. Aniseed. Fennel seed. Orange zest. Golden raisins. Coarse salt? Maybe if Herman doesn't come down when I am working on the dough, I can use a small batch for a little experiment. I'm thinking rolls, not loaves. The kind of rolls you want to smear with cold sweet butter at dinner, or split and toast and spread with cream cheese for breakfast. Savory and sweet. Maybe semolina on the bottom instead of the coarser cornmeal we use for the regular rye loaves.”

IdeasSeedsBreadFlavorsExperimentingRolls
Book:Wedding Girl
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“I had my feast out on the kitchen table. Draped over beds of jasmine rice, thin pork chops seasoned with lemongrass showcased charred stripes from the grill. Cold summer rolls with translucent rice paper glimmered with riotous colors from the mint leaves, vermicelli, and shrimp filling. Emerald coriander leaves peeked out amid slices of barbecued pork, in golden, crusty baguette sandwiches called banh mi. I placed a few pieces of the pork onto a plate for the cat. I bit into the cold rolls first. The thin wrapper yielded to my teeth, giving way to the crunchy pickled vegetables and plump shrimp underneath. The mint leaf inside complemented the sweet sauce with crushed peanuts. The two small rolls vanished into my belly. I attacked the banh mi next. The crisp crust highlighted the varying textures of its filling: crisp from the pickled radish and carrots, textures sang on my tongue.”

VegetablesFlavorsPorkRollsVietnamese Food
Book:Natalie Tan's Book of Luck & Fortune
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“I let all the tastes play in my mouth. The cupcake was light and creamy and subtly infused with aromatic cardamom. It was covered in a luscious rose-cardamom frosting. There were rose petals in the cake and on top, red and pink. They were fragrant and sweet and the tiniest bit salty. "Joy and sorrow. Laughter and tears," I said. "These cupcakes do taste like love. And love that you wished you still had.”

LoveFlavorsRoses And LoveCupcake
Book:Midsummer's Mayhem
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“Brian orders us both Grandpa's Turtle Sundaes, a classic with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, caramel sauce, whipped cream and nuts, topped with a house-made turtle candy instead of a cherry. Sigh. So much for getting out of the elastic waistband pants anytime soon. But the thing is, it works. Decadent, insane, over the top, but so freaking delicious. Cold ice cream, fluffy whipped cream, the mingling richness of fudge and caramel, perfectly tempered with the salt and crunch of toasted pecans and peanuts. A weirdly perfect food.”

IngredientsIce CreamFlavorsSundaeJenna And Brian
Book:Out to Lunch
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“Miss Elizabeth has never been to Old School Custard. Shall we?" "What's the flavor?" "Has that ever stopped us?" Nick pulled out his phone and started tapping. "It's our lucky day, kiddo. Salted Caramel." He turned to me as we headed out the door. "It's a frozen custard shop that makes only one flavor a day, but they always have chocolate and vanilla for backup." "I've never had frozen custard." "You're in for a treat----tons more calories than ice cream, but much creamier. Complete yum." Old School Custard was a small shop with walls covered in pictures of all the local high schools. I found Garfield and imagined Tyler in that huge building, teaching his beloved math. I then noticed an amazing chalk calendar with the flavor for each day listed, with creative drawings, and I understood why it was addicting---who could resist flavors like Malted Milk Balls, Caramel Macchiato, Espresso, or Banana Nutella? I ordered the Turtle Sundae----two scoops of Salted Caramel custard, pecans, hot fudge, caramel sauce, and whipped cream. Nick ordered the Recess, pretty much the same thing, but with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups instead of pecans. And Matt's Playground came complete with crushed Oreos for "dirt" and gummy worms.”

FrozenDessertFlavorsCaramelCustardSundae
Book:Lizzy and Jane
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“Three square tiers of hazelnut cake filled with caramel mousse and sliced poached pears, sealed with vanilla buttercream scented with pear eau-de-vie. It's covered in a smooth expanse of ivory fondant decorated with what appear to be natural branches of pale green dogwood but are actually gum paste and chocolate, and with almost-haphazard sheer spheres of silvery blown sugar, as if a child came by with a bottle of bubbles and they landed on the cake. On the top, in lieu of the traditional bride and groom, is a bottle of Dexter's favorite Riesling in a bow tie and a small three-tier traditional wedding cake sporting a veil, both made out of marzipan. It took me the better part of the last three weeks to make this cake. Not to mention the loaves of banana bread, the cellophane bags of pine nut shortbread cookies, and the little silver boxes of champagne truffles in the gift bags. And the vanilla buttermilk panna cottas we're serving with balsamic-macerated berries as the pre-dessert before the cake. And the hand-wrapped caramels and shards of toffee and dark-chocolate-covered candied ginger slices that will be served with the coffee.”

FlavorsPastriesDecoratingSweetsWedding Cakes
Book:Wedding Girl
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“She cut me a piece of the cheese and handed it to me---"The Dorset," she said---and it tasted like butter but dirtier, and maybe like the chanterelles she kept touching. She handed me a grape and when I bit it I found the seeds with my tongue and moved them to the side, spit them into my hand. I saw purple vines fattening in the sun. "It's like the seasons, but in my mouth," I said. She humored me. She cracked whole walnuts with a pair of silver nutcrackers. The skins on the nuts felt like gossamer wrappings.”

CheeseGrapesFlavorsWalnuts
Book:Sweetbitter
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“I pick up my teaspoon and take a small bite, and am transported. The cake is nutty and moist, the cream with the barest hint of rum, the dark chocolate ganache smooth and silky with just enough bitterness, the apricot bringing that perfect amount of tart brightness, cutting through the rich flavors, and making the whole thing sing in the mouth. It is perfectly balanced and absolutely amazing, and I'm mentally making notes to see if I can replicate it.”

TasteCakeFlavorsNuttyChestnutSophie Bernstein
Book:Wedding Girl
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“The ball of iced cream was nestled in a crystal dish. A pale orange in hue, it was studded with bright green pistachio kernels and glistening slivers of lemon peel. The flavors mingled in my mouth, sweet orange, sharp lemon, and the earthy bitterness of the nuts. Better than anything my mother had made. I forced it down. We were in Hannah's kitchen. She smiled at the look of rapture on my face. "I tried beating it periodically while it was freezing. It has greatly improved the texture. I am trying out other ideas too." How innovative she was. I smiled at her fondly. The queue had been out the door when I'd arrived, and iced cream was the demand upon everyone's lips. Hannah had three flavors on sale now: peach, raspberry, and the one I'd just tried, which she had named "Royal Ice.”

RomanceIce CreamInnovativeFlavorsIn Demand
Book:The Art of a Lie
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“I know you're a chocolate lover. I can always tell. I'm about to temper the chocolate. I have my own method; want to watch?" "Could I?" Inside my head, a little voice was reminding me that I had to get back to the office, but it was drowned out by the scent of chocolate, which flooded all my senses with a heady froth of cocoa and coffee, passion fruit, cinnamon and clove. I closed my eyes, and for one moment I was back in Aunt Melba's kitchen with Genie. I opened them to find Kim dancing with a molten river of chocolate. I stood hypnotized by the scent and the grace of her motions, which were more beautiful than any ballet. Moving constantly, she caressed the chocolate like a lover, folding it over and over on a slab of white marble, working it to get the texture right. She stopped to feed me a chocolate sprinkled with salt, which had the fierce flavor of the ocean, and another with the resonant intensity of toasted saffron. One chocolate tasted like rain, another of the desert. I tried tracking the flavors, pulling them apart to see how she had done it, but, like a magician, she had hidden her tricks. Each time I followed the trail, it vanished, and after a while I just gave up and allowed the flavors to seduce me. Now the scent changed as Kim began to dip fruit into the chocolate: raspberries, blackberries, tiny strawberries that smelled like violets. She put a chocolate-and-caramel-covered slice of peach into my mouth, and the taste of summer was so intense that I felt the room grow warmer. I lost all sense of time.”

ChocolateSpicesFlavorsFruitsChocolate LoversBillie BreslinKim Wong
Book:Delicious!
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“As soon as he was out of sight, Gui pulled the macaron mixture towards him, and took a deep breath. He whipped it back and forth, beads of sweat springing on his forehead as his arm muscles released and contracted. When it was almost ready, he reached up for the shelf where the spices and colors were kept. Carefully, he brought down the bottle of 'creme de violette,' the jar of delicate, dried violets, their petals sparkling with sugar. In tiny drops, he measured the purple liqueur into the mixture. He was acting on impulse, yet at the same time he felt certain, as though his first teacher, Monsieur Careme, was with him, guiding his steps. The scent reached up as he stirred, heady and sweet as a meadow, deep as lingering perfume in a midnight room. Hands shaking, he piped the mixture onto a tray in tiny rounds, enough to make six, one for each day that he and Jeanne would have to make it through before they could be together for the rest of their lives. Maurice was delayed talking to Josef, and by the time he returned, Gui was putting the finishing touches to his creations, filling them with a vanilla cream from the cold room, balancing one, tiny, sugar-frosted violet flower upon each.”

ScentBakingFlavorsCreating ArtPastry ChefMacaronsVioletsGuillaume Du Frère
Book:The Confectioner's Tale
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“How do you fancy making some dark cherry ganache with me, and we can fill these little yuzu shells with that instead? They can be a temporary special: a macaron de saison." I scrape the offending basil mixture into the bin. "Whatever you want." Her brightening eyes betray her. "That's the enthusiasm I was looking for," I reply, smiling. "What shall we call them then? It has to be French." We surrender to a thoughtful silence. Outside the cicadas are playing their noisy summer symphony. I imagine them boldly serenading one another from old tires, forgotten woodpiles, discarded plastic noodle bowls. "Something about summer..." she mumbles. After conferring with my worn, flour-dusted French-English dictionary, we agree on 'Brise d'Ete.”

FrenchFlavorsCicadasSummer BreezeMacaronsDark CherryYuzu
Book:The Color of Tea
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“Un Petit Phenix is born as Lillian's is resurrected, even more beautiful than before, with new wallpaper, new windows, and repaired chairs. It is a cinnamon macaron, pressed together with dark chili chocolate ganache. The result is surprisingly delicious- spicy, sweet, lingering long in your mouth, like a bowl of Aztec hot chocolate. It tastes best with a shot of the blackest coffee.”

ChocolateFrenchPhoenixFlavorsSpicyRestaurantCinnamonMacarons
Book:The Color of Tea
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“When everyone arrived at the formal garden, lunch had been laid out on the terrace by unseen hands. Bowls of strawberries and frosty buckets of champagne waited beside iced platters of salmon and dill, sliced cold flank steak and a salad composed of all the kitchen garden's earth-bound magic. A tiered cake stand held scores of macarons- pistachio, chocolate, raspberry and more exotic lavender and vanilla, thyme and honey, rose and tea, each topped with the corresponding herb or flower.”

FlavorsMacaronsGarden PartyTier CakeLuncheon
Book:The Forbidden Garden
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“Voila. Macarons. These ones I made yesterday for a party tonight, so they should be delicious." He is right, of course; they are perfect. The first one I taste is dark chocolate with a center that is firmer than I had expected but that melts on my tongue in seconds. The second one is raspberry, the ganache retaining the roughness and texture of the fruit. The almond paste is stronger in this one, nuttier; blended together with the raspberry, it tastes of autumn. The last macaron is passion fruit. I know the shells are unflavored, but it tastes as though the entire sweet- the shells, the ganache, the scent- is alive with the zest of passion fruit before it even enters my mouth. Then, acidic on the tongue and rounding off a heavy sweetness. The perfume of the passion fruit macaron is like a bunch of lilies, assaulting and exotic. I close my eyes for a second, savoring each one.”

FlavorsFruitsTastesMacaronsGrace And Leon
Book:The Color of Tea
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“I like caramel flavors; some people prefer a lighter taste, like rose, at least to start with. The chocolate-flavored ones are lovely, of course..." I am rambling; it is like choosing a favorite child, practically impossible. "What's in this one then?" She points at my newest creation, a pale, creamy white with soft flecks of yellow, like glints of gold in white marble. "Reve d'un Ange. It means 'dream of an angel.'" She tilts her head, interested, and I shrug. "Hopelessly romantic name, I know. Couldn't help myself." "What's in it?" she asked, lowering her voice. "It's my white chocolate macaron. Ganache, that's a kind of chocolate cream, sandwiched in the middle. I've added a little lemon rind and cinnamon.”

ChocolateSpicesFrenchFlavorsMacaronsGrace MillerWhite Chocolate
Book:The Color of Tea
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“Orange pekoe flavor, with that gold confection dust on the top." She holds one up to demonstrate. "Mascarpone filling." She bites it clean in half and shows me the middle. "Rose jelly in the center." "Sounds good to me. What shall we call it?" "I don't know." I reach over and pick up a macaron, the texture, weight, and balance all perfect. Symmetry, lightness, both shells with excellent feet, wedded together with a smooth filling. Nodding with approval, I place it on my tongue. She is right; the orange and rose flavors melt lustily in your mouth. It's just like Mama- all bright and full of surprises.”

RoseOrangeFlavorsTastesMacarons
Book:The Color of Tea
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“My fingers danced above the open box as I tried to anticipate which flavor would be the very best. Lionel, equal parts benevolent and impatient, steered me to a dusty rose-colored one; it was the famous Ispahan flavor. I bit into the shell that, poof, crunched ever so delicately before collapsing in a delightfully chewy and moist mouthful. And then the storm of flavors hit me. Bright raspberry, exotic lychee, and a whiff of rose. There was so much power in that pretty little thing. It was a delicacy packed with skill, imagination, poetry, and, God, give me another one!”

RoseParisFlavorsMacaronsIspahan
Book:Paris, My Sweet: A Year in the City of Light
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“Relax, princess. If your prince arrives, I'll vacate. Just keeping you company. Besides, he should know better than to leave a beautiful girl waiting on him; someone else might swoop in and steal his prize." This man is insufferable. "I'm neither a princess nor a prize, nor a girl if you want to be specific about it." "I notice you didn't mind my calling you beautiful." The waitress comes over and asks what he would like. I begin to tell her he isn't staying, but he talks right over me. "The three-wine flight and a slice of the chestnut cream cake, please." Damn his eyes! That was the dessert I was most interested in: layers of chestnut cream, apricot glaze, and dark chocolate ganache.”

ChocolateIngredientsCakeFlirtingFlavorsChestnutApricotMark LangerSophie And Mark
Book:Wedding Girl
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“While we formed mochi cakes, the men pounded another batch of rice. When it was soft, they divided the rice dough until it turned nubby like tweed. They sprinkled the second blob with dried shrimp and banged it until it turned coral. Nori seaweed powder colored the third hunk forest green, while the fourth piece of mochi became yellow and pebbly with cooked corn kernels. For variation, the grandmother rolled several plain mochi in a tan talc of sweetened toasted soybean powder. She also stuffed several dumplings with crimson azuki bean fudge. Then she smeared a thick gob of azuki paste across a mochi puff, pushed in a candied chestnut, and pinched the dumpling shut. "For the American!" cried Mr. Omura, swiping his mother's creation. I looked up and he handed it to me. It was tender and warm. All eyes turned to watch the American. "Oishii!" I uttered with a full mouth. And it was delicious. The soft stretchy rice dough had a mild savory chew that mingled with the candy-like sweetness of the bean paste and buttery chestnut.”

TraditionalRiceColorsFlavorsDoughFillingsMochiChestnut
Book:Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto
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“She'd make all the ingredients individually for her kimchi-jjigae," he went on. "Anchovy stock. Her own kimchi, which made the cellar smell like garlic and red pepper all the time. The pork shoulder simmering away. And when she'd mix it all together..." He trailed off, tipping his head back against the seat. It was the first movement he'd made over the course of his speaking; his hands rested still by his sides. "It was everything. Salty, sour, briny, rich, and just a tiny bit sweet from the sesame oil. I've been trying to make it for years, and mine has never turned out like hers." My anxiety manifestation popped up out of nowhere, hovering invisibly over one off Luke's shoulders. The boy doesn't know that the secret ingredient in every grandma's dish is love. He needs some more love in his life, said Grandma Ruth, eyeing me beadily. Maybe yours. Is he Jewish? I shook my head, banishing her back to the ether. "I get the feeling," I said. "I can make a mean matzah ball soup, with truffles and homemade broth boiled for hours from the most expensive free-range chickens, and somehow it never tastes as good as the soup my grandma would whip up out of canned broth and frozen vegetables." Damn straight, Grandma Ruth said smugly. Didn't I just banish you? I thought, but it was no use. "So is that the best thing you've ever eaten?" Luke asked. "Your grandma's matzah ball soup?" I shook my head. I opened my mouth, about to tell him about Julie Chee's grilled cheese with kimchi and bacon and how it hadn't just tasted of tart, sour kimchi and crunchy, smoky bacon and rich, melted cheese but also belonging and bedazzlement and all these feelings that didn't have names, like the dizzy, accomplished feeling you'd get after a Saturday night dinner rush when you were a little drunk but not a lot drunk because you had to wake up in time for Sunday brunch service, but then everything that happened with Derek and the Green Onion kind of changed how I felt about it. Painted over it with colors just a tiny bit off. So instead I told him about a meal I'd had in Lima, Peru, after backpacking up and down Machu Picchu. "Olive tofu with octopus, which you wouldn't think to put together, or at least I wouldn't have," I said. The olive tofu had been soft and almost impossibly creamy, tasting cleanly of olives, and the octopus had been meaty and crispy charred on the outside, soft on the inside.”

Food For ThoughtFlavorsCuisineJewish FoodKimchiGrandmothers Love
Book:Sadie on a Plate
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“He opens a lower cabinet to reveal that it is a mini fridge, and brings over two plates that each have a slice of what looks like flan, dark at the top from being baked with caramel. He hands me a plate and fork, and pours me a glass of wine. I take a bite. And my eyes snap open. "Gateau de semoule?" I say in disbelief. "Mais oui, mademoiselle, bien sur." He smiles. "I thought you might like it." "I adore it. And I haven't had it in years." The very French dessert is essentially baked creme caramel-type custard, thickened with semolina for an amazing texture and added nuttiness. There are juicy golden raisins, which I believe he has soaked in rum, and the caramel you make for the bottom of the baking dish turns itself into a light sauce when you unmold it. It is the kind of dessert that any French maman would make on a weeknight for dessert. Unfunny, unfussy, and completely comforting and delicious.”

IngredientsDessertFrenchFlavorsComfort FoodCaramelJenna And Elliot
Book:Out to Lunch
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“On the coffee table is a bottle of Madeira, a plate of dark chocolates, a bowl of tiny tangerines. He opens a lower cabinet to reveal that it is a mini fridge, and brings over two plates that each have a slice of what looks like flan, dark at the top from being baked with caramel. He hands me a plate and fork, and pours me a glass of wine. I take a bite. And my eyes snap open. "Gateau de semoule?" I say in disbelief. "Mais oui, mademoiselle, bien sur." He smiles. "I thought you might like it." "I adore it. And I haven't had it in years." The very French dessert is essentially baked creme caramel-type custard, thickened with semolina for an amazing texture and added nuttiness. There are juicy golden raisins, which I believe he has soaked in rum, and the caramel you make for the bottom of the baking dish turns itself into a light sauce when you unmold it. It is the kind of dessert that any French maman would make on a weeknight for dessert. Unfancy, unfussy, and completely comforting and delicious.”

IngredientsDessertFrenchFlavorsComfort FoodCaramelJenna And Elliot
Book:Out to Lunch
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“But Stanley persisted in the kitchen, performing the small yet demanding apprentice's tasks she set for him- removing the skin from piles of almonds, grating snowy hills of lemon zest, the nightly sweeping of the kitchen floor and sponging of metal shelves. He didn't seem to mind: every day after school, he'd lean over the counter, watching her experiment with combinations- shifting flavors like the beads in a kaleidoscope- burnt sugar, hibiscus, rum, espresso, pear: dessert as a metaphor for something unresolvable. It was nothing like the slapdashery of cooking. Baking, to Avis, was no less precise than chemistry: an exquisite transfiguration. Every night, she lingered in the kitchen, analyzing her work, jotting notes, describing the way ingredients nestled: a slim layer of black chocolate hidden at the bottom of a praline tart, the essence of lavender stirred into a bowl of preserved wild blueberries. Stanley listened to his mother think out loud: he asked her questions and made suggestions- like mounding lemon meringue between layers of crisp pecan wafers- such a success that her corporate customers ordered it for banquets and company retreats. On the day Avis is thinking of, she sat in the den where they watched TV, letting her hand swim over the silk of her daughter's hair, imagining a dessert pistou of blackberry, creme fraiche, and nutmeg, in which floated tiny vanilla croutons. Felice was her audience, Avis's picky eater- difficult to please. Her "favorites" changed capriciously and at times, it seemed, deliberately, so that after Avis set out what once had been, in Felice's words, "the best ever"- say, a miniature roulade Pavlova with billows of cream and fresh kumquat- Felice would announce that she was now "tired" of kumquats.”

IngredientsBakingFlavorsPastriesPickyAvis MuirFelice MuirStanley Muir
Book:Birds of Paradise
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