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Sense Of Taste Quotes

Browse 21 quotes about Sense Of Taste.

Sense Of Taste Quotes

“True to being the firstborn, Caraline's magic was louder and warmer. It thrived in her cooking, when she folded it into dough and steeped it in broth. Rowan didn't know how hibiscus rolls could soften an argument, or why rosemary bread helped someone remember things that had long ago started to fade, but somehow they did. Caraline called it comfort, but Rowan knew it was enchantment. Saoirse could coax flowers to bloom out of season and lure herbs to grow even in the heaviest clay soil. Her teas did more than soothe. Rowan had seen them ease fevers, quiet grief, and silence nightmares. Saoirse didn't call it magic, but Rowan had always felt it in the way a room calmed when she entered. She carried stillness like a cloak. And then there was Rowan. She didn't brew curative tinctures or bake healing breads. Her magic, such as it was, served no purpose. It didn't look like theirs. In fact, it didn't look like anything. Her eyes, green like clover and threaded with gold, drew stares she couldn't explain. And her hair, with a single streak of impossible red, practically glowed in the moonlight. She tried to hide it, oh, how she tried. She used to bleach to turn it Marilyn Monroe blonde, but it didn't work. She dyed it every shade of brown, then black, thinking she could bury the flame. But it never lasted. The ruby streak always returned, a mark she couldn't shake. People always looked at her a second too long, as if they could sense something inexplicable about her. Sometimes she even felt it too. But most of the time she felt like the odd one out with her sisters. Saoirse had a head of red hair and her eyes were dark like pine needles. Unlike Rowan, she didn't long for friends. All she needed were her plants, herbs, and whatever flower she held at any given moment, plus the apothecary she always created wherever they lived. And, of course, the swallows, which she could make behave. Caraline's hair was the color of midnight, which set off the flecks of amber in her eyes. She was the opposite of both Rowan and Saoirse. Friendships with women she could do without, but the attention she got from men? That practically fed her soul. At every new place they went, Caraline had herself a new beau within days. And Rowan had her red streak. But it wasn't just her hair. It wasn't just her eyes. Worse were the unexpected tastes that bloomed on her tongue whenever she was around people. Her magic stirred, and it was as if she could taste their emotions and who they were, deep down inside.”

Magic Sisters Witches Rowan Sense Of Taste Triplets Hair Color Eye Colors Streak

Book:House of Spells and Secrets

Source: House of Spells and Secrets

“Minha's gift was her sense of taste. Her ability to savor. Big, bold tango and fandango on her tongue. The shift, the hint, the smallest component of flavor eked out and found, considered, remembered. When the unwanted fairy godmother, unseen and unknown, turned up at her birth, she did not bequeath a prophecy, or a fairy-tale ending. No. She endowed the infant Minha with the ability to experience, wildly, vividly, appetite.”

Birth Dark Fantasy Fairy Godmother Main Character Sense Of Taste

Book:Feast

Source: Feast

“When I lived in New York and went to Chinatown, I learned that these flavors and their meanings were actually a foundation of ancient Chinese medicine. Salty translated to fear and the frantic energy that tries to compensate for or hide it. Sweet was the first flavor we recognized from our mother's milk, and to which we turned when we were worried and unsure or depressed. Sour usually meant anger and frustration. Bitter signified matters of the heart, from simply feeling unloved to the almost overwhelming loss of a great love. Most spices, along with coffee and chocolate, had some bitterness in their flavor profile. Even sugar, when it cooked too long, turned bitter. But to me, spice was for grief, because it lingered longest.”

Sweet Bitter Spices Sour Flavors Salty Sense Of Taste Claire O Neil Basic Tastes

Book:The Cake Therapist

Source: The Cake Therapist

“She lifted a piece of sourdough bruschetta slathered with seafood and a light-colored sauce. She bit carefully into the creation. Her mouth exploded with flavor. Prawns and lobster swimming in the most delectable sauce. Buttery and layered, with whisky and leeks and onions and simple herbs. Sophia moaned. There was more than just one bite on this plate. Thank God. Not strictly a true amuse-bouche, but Sophia didn't care. Was it bad form to lick the plate in a cooking competition? This drab little plate had miraculously fixed her taste bud deficiency. Unbelievable. The moment had just shifted from black-and-white to color, like a scene from the Wizard of Oz. Who had created this dish? Someone with a sophisticated palate but no eye for visual presentation. The last plate beckoned, but she already knew it was a lost cause. There was no way it could best that seafood stew. It was a lovely crepe, packed with grilled eggplant and goat cheese. And now that Sophia's taste had been awakened from hibernation, she was able to enjoy every bite. But it still wasn't enough to out-shine the prawns. Those prawns sang to her, and they needed her. They demanded color and brightness. The sauce was bold and rich. That plate clamored for the balance of her garden. She could imagine a prickly little salad to offer texture and bite, to complement that exquisite sauce. Those prawns needed her.”

Seafood Palate Stew Crepes Sense Of Taste Flavorful

Book:A Taste of Heaven

Source: A Taste of Heaven

“I had been rolling the cherry around in my mouth, letting it slip across my tongue. There was the flicker of salt from Tessina's fingers, and her own flavor: saffron, violets, the liquor of oysters.”

Cherry Sense Of Taste Tessina Albizzi

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“I speared a sausage with my knife, bit off the end. Juice and fat exploded: the pork melted. I tasted chestnuts, moss, the bulbs of wild lilies, the roots and shoots of an Umbrian forest floor. There was pepper, of course, salt and garlic. Nothing else. I opened my eyes. The Proctor was staring at me, and quickly looked away. I thought I saw a smile cross his lips before he opened them to admit another wagon-load of lentils. I tried a spoonful myself. They were very small and brown- earthy-tasting, of course. That I had been expecting. But these were subtle: there was a hint of pine, which came partly from the rosemary that was obviously in the dish, but partly from the lentils themselves. I did feel as if I were eating soil, but a special kind: some sort of silky brown clay, perhaps; something that Maestro Donatello would have crossed oceans to sculpt with, or that my uncle Filippo would have used as a pigment to paint the eyes of a beautiful brown-eyed donna. Maybe this is what the earth under the finest hazelnut tree in Italy would taste like- but that, perhaps, was a question best put to a pig. "Make sure you chew properly," I mumbled, piling my plate high. The serving girl came back with a trencher of sliced pork meats: salami dotted with pink fat, ribbons of lardo, peppery bacon. The flavors were slippery, lush, like copper leaf or the robe of a cardinal. I coiled a strip of dark, translucent ham onto my tongue: it dissolved into a shockingly carnal mist, a swirl of truffles, cinnamon and bottarga.”

Flavors Meats Earthy Sense Of Taste Lentils Sausages

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“As it turned out, the purée of spring vegetables exceeded Mr. Ravenel's description. The soft reddish-orange emulsion really did taste like a garden. It was a bold, creamy harmony of astringent tomato, sweet carrots, potatoes, and greens, bound together in a lively snap of springtime. As Phoebe bit into a half-crisp, half-sodden crouton, she closed her eyes to savor it. God, it had been so long since she'd really tasted anything.”

Vegetables Flavors Phoebe Clare Sense Of Taste Puree

Book:Devil's Daughter

Source: Devil's Daughter

“I see there's a choice for the fish course: turbot with lobster sauce, or sole à la Normandie." She paused. "I'm not familiar with the latter." Mr. Ravenel answered readily, "White sole filets marinated in cider, sautéed in butter, and covered with crème fraîche. It's light, with a tang of apples." It had been a long time since Phoebe had thought of a meal as anything other than a perfunctory ritual. She had not only lost her appetite after Henry died, she'd also lost her sense of taste. Only a few things still had flavor. Strong tea, lemon, cinnamon.”

Food For Thought Phoebe Clare Phoebe And West Sense Of Taste

Book:Devil's Daughter

Source: Devil's Daughter

“She had brought me more of the ricotta, which I ate, slurping at the spoon like a child while my companion watched, beaming. My mind showed me the bees working high in the chestnut trees, swarming through the polished, ridged leaves and over the long white brushes of flowers. I saw the dark heart of the nest, dripping gold. Goats clattered over rocks and tore at cushions of herbs.”

Honey Sense Of Taste Goat Cheese Chestnut Tree Goat Milk

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“Signor Renzo's lodge stood on a grassy knoll near the crest of the hill. It was a modest place, just a low stone hut, before which stretched a woven ceiling of vines. My dinner was cooked on an open fire by the table. This was no banquet, but what the cook called a pique-nique, a meal for hunters to take outdoors. After Renzo had chosen two fat ducklings from his larder, he spitted them over the fire. Then he made a dish of buttery rice crowned with speckled discs of truffle that tasted powerfully of God's own earth. 'Come sit with me,' I begged, for I did not like him to wait on me. So together we sat beneath the vines as I savored each morsel and guessed at the subtle flavorings. 'Wild garlic?' I asked, and he lifted his brows in surprise as he ate. 'And a herb,' I added, 'sage?' 'For a woman, you have excellent taste.' For a woman, indeed! I made a play of stabbing him with my knife. It was most pleasant to eat our pique-nique and drink the red wine, which they make so strong in that region that they call it black or nero. I asked him to speak of himself, and between a trial of little dishes of wild leaves, chestnut fritters, and raisin cake, Signor Renzo told me he was born in the city and had worked at a pastry's cook shop as a boy, where he soon discovered that good foods mixed with ingenious hands made people happy and free with their purses.”

Italian Food And Wine Picnic Sense Of Taste Dinner Date Lodge Biddy And Renzo Signor Renzo

Book:An Appetite for Violets

Source: An Appetite for Violets

“Luckily, we always had chicken legs in the fridge and plenty of soy sauce and brown sugar. But what else was in it? The salty sweetness was the dominant flavor, but it was more well-rounded than that. There was a depth and brightness. Calamansi! My eyes alit on the bottle of citrus juice we kept on hand when we couldn't find the fresh fruit. That must've been what she used. And what else... I closed my eyes, picturing myself at this kitchen table, the fragrant chicken piled on top of a steaming bowl of white rice, a tiny dribble of dark sauce squiggled across. I smiled and opened my eyes. Garlic. Of course.”

Cooking Chicken Sense Of Taste Memories Of Mother Secret Ingredient

Book:Homicide and Halo-Halo

Source: Homicide and Halo-Halo

“This is an item used in Chinese cuisine. It's made from the same beans you use to make Chinese vermicelli, but it's been formed into a thin sheet instead of into noodles. Because it's tasteless and odorless in itself, we're obviously meant to focus on the mouthfeel, enjoying the firmness with our teeth and the silkiness with our tongues. As far as the taste goes, the important thing is the dressing... Hmm... the dashi is perfect, and the balance of flavors is well done too. There's vinegar in it, but the strength of the vinegar has been skillfully toned down.”

Transparent Seasonings Sense Of Taste Asian Food Thin Slicing Cellophane

Book:Japanese Cuisine

Source: Japanese Cuisine

“It was a good-sized trout, opened out, salted, pressed, floured and fried. The entrails had been cooked with some vinegar and mint, mashed up and spooned onto the plate as a sort of afterthought. It was delicious: simple and honest. I ate it all, and didn't give a single thought for what it might do to my humors. I sucked every bone, washed it down with some thick, spicy red wine- peasants' wine- from the hills above the town. I knew that I was tasting the place itself: the fish from the river I had crossed on my way into the town, the pig that had rooted in the woods I had ridden through, olives grown a short walk away. The pig had snuffled under the pine trees whose nuts had adorned its sausages. I had eaten the land. The town itself will always be nameless in my memory, but even now I can assemble it from its flavors, because I have never forgotten any of them. A meal of pigs' liver and fish, served with apologies.”

Pigs Liver Trout Seasonings Food And Wine Surf And Turf Sense Of Taste Sausages Perugia

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“My period began when I was eleven years old, three months after DeAnne thought it had. I woke up one morning to stickiness between my legs and the smell of raw meat in my bed. There was no one to tell. The news had preceded the occurrence. I practiced saying it anyway, "My periodblueberrymuffin starteduunsaltedbutter today oatmeal." This was a comforting sentence for me. I had just learned the trick of stringing together words to produce the tastes that I wanted. I was particularly fond of this thread: "walnut, elephant, candle, jogger." These words brought forth the following in this satisfying order: ham steak, sugar-cured and pan-fried; sweet potatoes baked with lots of butter; 7UP (though more of the lime than the lemon, like when it's icy cold); fresh strawberries, sweet and ripe.”

Words Period Comforting Words Sense Of Taste Monthly Cycles

Book:Bitter in the Mouth

Source: Bitter in the Mouth

“My period began when I was eleven years old, three months after DeAnne thought it had. I woke up one morning to stickiness between my legs and the smell of raw meat in my bed. There was no one to tell. The news had preceded the occurrence. I practiced saying it anyway, "My periodblueberrymuffin startedunsaltedbutter todayoatmeal." This was a comforting sentence for me. I had just learned the trick of stringing together words to produce the tastes that I wanted. I was particularly fond of this thread: "walnut, elephant, candle, jogger." These words brought forth the following in this satisfying order: ham steak, sugar-cured and pan-fried; sweet potatoes baked with lots of butter; 7UP (though more of the lime than the lemon, like when it's icy cold); fresh strawberries, sweet and ripe.”

Period Comforting Words Sense Of Taste Monthly Cycles

Author:Monique Truong

“All the flavors lined up, an army getting into ranks: peeled, ground almonds; elderflowers; bread, sugar, the lush heat of ginger. It is hard, looking back, to remember exactly what a mouthful like that would have done to me, but I think it would have told me some kind of small but complicated story, or perhaps I would have seen a piece of carved ivory, for all the white things: almonds, bread, flowers, sugar. Something obvious like flames for the ginger, or less obvious: a sun-warmed brick or a cockerel's comb. What do I remember about this particular bowl of menestra, though, is that nothing like that happened. I tasted... almonds. I still saw them as bright green in my mind's eye, but somehow it didn't take over the whole world. Instead I thought to myself: There are almonds in this. An almond is a nut. It grows on a tree. A tree with sweet white flowers, of course, and there's the nut itself, nestled inside its speckled, woody shell. I found myself savoring the milky bitterness of almond meat, noticing how the sugar seemed to flow over the bitter, not destroying it but creating a separate taste. The ginger and the elderflowers fell into each other's arms, and all four things sank into the comforting blandness of the soaked bread. To my amazement I discovered that I could keep each clamoring taste, with its color, in its place; and pick out other flavors too, each with its own color and image. I dipped my spoon in again, tasted, swallowed. Another spoonful, then another. The flavors weren't disappearing into nothingness, they were becoming part of me.”

Flavors Almonds Savoring Sense Of Taste

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“Babyhoney Harpercelery." The honey, a percolating bubble full of flowers and citrus, bursts wide open when the sea pf celery- the only vegetable I know that comes pre-salted- washes in. An unexpectedly pleasurable combination of flavors that made me wobbly in the knees.”

Honey Name Celery Sense Of Taste Flavorful

Book:Bitter in the Mouth

Source: Bitter in the Mouth

“One day they let me knead the ingredients for sausage meat, and the raw foods themselves seized me: lean pork and soft, white fat- The one talks to the other, said Carenza. Without the fat, the lean is too dry, and without the lean... she stuck out her tongue, too much. I grated some cheese: dry pecorino that had been in our larder for months, and some fresh marzolino, tasting both. Mace went in, and cinnamon, and black pepper. How much salt? Mamma showed me in the palm of her hand, Let me sweep it into the bowl. Then she broke some eggs onto the mixture. This is my secret, she said, and grated the rind of an orange so that the crumbs covered everything in a thin layer of gold. Do you want to mix it, Nino? Almost laughing with excitement, I plunged my fingers through the cold silkiness of the eggs, feeling the yolks pop, then made fists deep inside the meat. I could smell the orange, the pork, the cheese, the spices, and then they started to melt together into something else. When it was all mixed together I licked my fingers, though Carenza slapped my hand away from my mouth, and after we'd stuffed them into the slimy pink intestines and cooked up a few for ourselves, I discovered how the fire had changed the flavors yet again. The clear, fresh taste of the pork had deepened and intensified, while the cool blandness of the fat had changed into something rich and buttery that held the spices and the orange zest. And the salt seemed to have performed this magic, because it was everywhere, but at the same time hardly noticeable.”

Cooking Ingredients Spices Cheeses Sense Of Taste Sausages

Book:Appetite

Source: Appetite

“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.”

Flavors Sense Of Taste Fruity Cardamom

Book:Southern Sass and Killer Cravings

Source: Southern Sass and Killer Cravings

“He could smell the readiness of onion in every one of its stages of cooking and knew exactly what stage worked best for each dish. He could identify the exact rapidity with which milk had to boil before adding the lemon to make the cheese curd separate into paneer. He could sense exactly when to add the tomatoes to tie together the onion, garlic, and ginger so that the curry came together perfectly with the oil separating from it in syrupy rivulets.”

Chef Sense Of Taste Sense Of Smell Dj Caine

Book:Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors

Source: Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors

“Once inside the confectioners, she was spellbound by sugared fruits hung in garlands and glass bottles sparkling with morsels of sugar. While Loveday spoke to the shop girl, Biddy trailed the shelves slowly, looking inside the glass jars, mouthing the words on the Bill of Fare. 'Look Mr Loveday, "Macaroons- As Made In Paris"', she sighed, staring at a heap of biscuits made in every color from blue to shiny gold. Carefully he ordered his goods from the jars of herbs behind the counter. First, there was Mr Pars' packet of coltsfoot that he smoked to ease his chest. Then a bag of comfrey tea for his mistress's stomach. Finally, boxes of the usual violet pastilles. Biddy came up behind him while the girl tied the parcel with ribbon. 'Begging your pardon, miss. Is it right you're selling that Royal Ice Cream?' The girl shrugged. 'That's what it says on the board if you can read it.' 'Aye, I've been studying it all right. I've only ever read of ices before. So I'll have a try of it.' When the girl reappeared Biddy sniffed at the glass bowl, and then cautiously licked the ice cream from the tiny spoon. 'Why, it is orange flowers.' She looked happy enough to burst. 'And something else, some fragrant nut- do you put pistachio in it too?”

Ice Cream Flavors Sweets Sense Of Taste Biddy Leigh Confectioner Biddy And Loveday

Book:An Appetite for Violets

Source: An Appetite for Violets