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Vanilla Quotes

Browse 116 quotes about Vanilla.

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Vanilla Quotes

“He placed a pinch of snow on his tongue and thought of making snow ice cream with Frank and their mother when they were small boys - 'First you stir in the vanilla' - Frank standing on a stool on his wondrously functional pre-Libya legs, the bullet that would sever his spinal cord still twenty-five years away but already approaching: a woman giving birth to a child who will someday pull the trigger on a gun, a designer sketching the weapon or its precursor, a dictator making a decision that will spark in the fullness of time into the conflagration that Frank will go overseas to cover for Reuters, the pieces of a pattern drifting closer together.”

PiecesBirthPatternsTongueSnowDesignerDictatorWondrousLibyaVanillaBulletSpinal CordFunctionalParaplegicConflagrationFrank ChaudharyJeevan ChaudharyReutersSnow CreamThe Fullness Of Time
Book:Station Eleven
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“The word comes from Greek mythology. Orchis was the son of a satyr and a nymph. During a feast to celebrate Bacchus, Orchis drank too much wine and tried to force his attentions on a priestess. Bacchus was very displeased, and reacted by having Orchis torn to pieces. The pieces were scattered far and wide, and wherever one landed, an orchid grew." Pausing, she leaned away for a few seconds, reaching for something. Something soft and delicate touched his cracked lips.... She was applying salve with a fingertip. "Most people don't know that vanilla is the fruit of an orchid vine. We keep one in a glasshouse on the estate- it's so long that it grows sideways on the wall. When one of the flowers is full grown, it opens in the morning, and if it isn't pollinated, it closes in the evening, never to open again. The white blossoms, and the vanilla pods within them, have the sweetest scent in the world...”

Greek MythologyVanillaOrchidsHelen RavenelRhys And Helen
Book:Cold-Hearted Rake
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“Kai slices the cake, his version of the banana cake I have always talked about. He has made a vanilla sponge cake, soaked in vanilla simple syrup, and layered with sliced fresh bananas and custard. There is a central layer of dark chocolate ganache with bits of crispy pecans and toffee, and the whole thing is covered in chocolate buttercream, with extravagant curls of chocolate and chocolate-dipped banana slices piled in the middle. I accept a thin slice, savoring the flavors, both of the cake, and of simple joy.”

ChocolateCakeVanillaBananaSponge Cake
Book:Good Enough to Eat
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“Starting with the chocolate version, I swap out some of the cocoa powder with melted bittersweet chocolate and add some sour cream for balance and moistness, as well as some instant espresso powder, my secret ingredient for anything chocolate, which doesn't so much make something taste like coffee, but rather just makes chocolate taste more chocolaty. While the chocolate cupcakes are baking, I turn my attention to the vanilla recipe, adding some vanilla bean paste to amp up the vanilla flavor and show off those awesome little black-speck vanilla seeds, and mixing some buttermilk into the batter to prevent it from being overly sweet and unbalanced. The banana version uses very ripe bananas that I've been stashing in the freezer, as well as a single slice of fresh banana that has been coated in caramel and is pushed halfway into each cup of batter for a surprise in the middle of the cupcakes. Herman's frostings are close to the frostings of my youth, simple faux buttercreams made with softened butter and confectioners' sugar. Nothing fancy. In my newer versions, the chocolate gets melted chocolate and chocolate milk mixed in, the vanilla gets more vanilla bean paste and a tiny hit of lemon zest, and the peanut butter gets a blend of butter and cream cheese for some tang.”

ChocolateIngredientsRecipesChangesBananasFlavorsVanillaCupcakesFrostingSophie BernsteinOomphHerman Langer
Book:Wedding Girl
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“Though his lips didn't touch my ear, I felt them there like a hot stroke to my skin. I nearly shivered when his voice rumbled out in a dark whisper. "Thank you, Emma, for saving me from my masculine pride." I couldn't have hidden my answering smile if I'd tried; it fell over me like sunshine, warming me from the crests of my cheeks to the tips of my tingling toes. "You're welcome, Lucian." He grunted---oh, how I loved the way this man grunted---and then took the driver's seat. We didn't speak as he pulled out, but he turned the radio back on and appeared relaxed behind the wheel. I swore I caught a hint of vanilla emanating from him. Not the cakey sweetness of a scented candle but the dark floral note of true vanilla. I couldn't imagine a guy like Lucian splashing on cologne, but it was so enticing I was tempted to lean in and give him a sniff.”

FlirtingVanillaScent Of A ManSensual Attraction
Book:Make It Sweet
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“He'd plated one of the desserts in a beautiful glass bowl, complete with what he said was the homemade vanilla bean ice cream he'd made the previous night, and garnished the pear with the sauce, a cinnamon stick, sprigs of thyme, vanilla bean pods, and pomegranate seeds. "The sauce?" I asked, dipping in my spoon. "Vanilla bean seeds, red wine, sugar, and nutmeg," he said. "If there's anything I know, it's how to make sauces with wine." I dipped my spoon in and tasted it. Oh my God, heaven on my tongue. I eyed him warily. "You really do know sauces. I's simply delicious," I said. "But I taste a few more ingredients? Orange? Star anise? A dash or two of pastis, maybe?" "Your palate is just like your grandmother's. I can never get anything past her either.”

IngredientsDessertSauceFrenchVanillaHomemadePears
Book:The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux
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“He slammed his cup down. Coffee splashed over the rim and puddled around the base. “What on earth gave you the idea I want space? I want you here. With me. All the time. I want to come home and hear the shower running and get excited because I know you’re in it. I want to struggle every morning to get up and go to the gym because I hate the idea of leaving your warm body behind in bed. I want to hear a key turn in the lock and feel contented knowing you’re home. I don’t want fucking space, Harper.” Harper laughed. “What’s funny?” “I didn’t mean space. I meant space, like closet space, a drawer in the bedroom, part of the counter in the bathroom.” Trent’s mouth twitched, a slight smile making its way to his lips. “Like a compromise. A commitment that I want more. I seem to recall you telling me in the car about something being a step in the right direction to a goal we both agreed on. Well, I want all those things you just said, with you, eventually. And if we start to leave things at each other’s places, it’s a step, right?” Trent reached up, flexing his delicious tattooed bicep, and scratched the side of his head. Without speaking, he leapt to his feet, grabbing Harper and pulling her into a fireman’s lift. “Trent,” she squealed, kicking her feet to get free. “What are you doing?” He slapped her butt playfully and laughed as he carried her down the hallway. Reaching the bedroom, Trent threw her onto the bed. “We’re doing space. Today, right now.” He started pulling open his drawers, looking inside each one before pulling stuff out of the top drawer and dividing it between the others. “Okay, this is for your underwear. I need to see bras, panties, and whatever other girly shit you have in here before the end of the day.” Like a panther on the prowl, Trent launched himself at the bed, grabbing her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed before sweeping her into his arms to walk to the bathroom. He perched her on the corner of the vanity, where his stuff was spread across the two sinks. “Pick one.” “Pick one what?” “Sink. Which do you want?” “You’re giving me a whole sink? Wait … stop…” Trent grabbed her and started tickling her. Harper didn’t recognize the girly giggles that escaped her. Pointing to the sink farthest away from the door, she watched as he pushed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and styling products to the other side of the vanity. He did the same thing with the vanity drawers and created some space under the sink. “I expect to see toothbrush, toothpaste, your shampoo, and whatever it is that makes you smell like vanilla in here.” “You like the vanilla?” It never ceased to surprise her, the details he remembered. Turning, he grabbed her cheeks in both hands and kissed her hard. He trailed kisses behind her ear and inhaled deeply before returning to face her. “Absolutely. I fucking love vanilla,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. “Oh and I’d better see a box of tampons too.” “Oh my goodness, you are beyond!” Harper blushed furiously. “I want you for so much more than just sex, Harper.”

SpaceAweVanillaHarper And TrentSo Beyond
Book:The Strongest Steel
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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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“Milk and cookies, anyone?" Elliot reappears from the kitchen with a large platter of chocolate chip cookies, and a little wire holder containing a dozen little milk bottles with striped paper straws, that turn out to contain vanilla malted milk shakes. "Elliot, these are amazing," I say, slurping the bottom of my bottle. "No one ever thinks about malt in vanilla, but I like it better than chocolate.”

MilkVanillaMaltJenna And ElliotMilk Shake
Book:Out to Lunch
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“Madre Carmela brought the covered bowl over to Rosalia. A subtle, sweet aroma reached Rosalia's nose. Her mouth watered in anticipation of whatever culinary surprise Madre Carmela had for her today. Instead of waiting for the sister to unfold the napkin, Rosalia pulled it back herself and almost gasped when she saw what delights were in store for her. Puffy clusters of dough in vanilla and chocolate were piled one on top of the other to form a misshapen pyramid. Chocolate and vanilla cream oozed from a few of the pastries. "Ha-ha! I see you couldn't wait," Madre Carmela gently teased Rosalia, who quickly looked up, her cheeks turning the same hot pink hue as the sugar roses the nuns had painstakingly created this morning for a wedding cake. "That's all right, my child. I'm happy to see you are feeling more comfortable here. Go ahead. Have as many as you like." Rosalia wondered which one she should try first- the chocolate or the vanilla. She'd always loved anything vanilla, so she opted for one of those first. Instead of taking a small, tentative bite out of the pastry, as she would have done her first few weeks at the convent, she popped the whole sweet at once into her mouth, eliciting another hearty laugh from Madre Carmela. But this time, Rosalia wasn't embarrassed. She closed her eyes, savoring the pastry's airy, flaky crust and the rich sweetness of the vanilla cream.”

PastriesVanillaSweetsRosalia
Book:Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop
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“Cannelés," Rosie said. Little cakes with a dark, caramelized exterior. They had the shininess of a perfectly glazed donut, and even though Rosie had never had one- you had to have a special pan to make them, a cannelé mold- she knew the inside was supposed to be like custard. "Exactement!" Chef Petit said proudly. "You have had before?" "No," Rosie said, at exactly the same time Bodie said, "Yeah, of course. With Dominique Ansel." Good gravy. Of course Bodie was running around eating cannelés with the man who invented the Cronut. His real life was her Instagram feed. "Please, try." He shook the basket at them. Rosie grabbed one eagerly- it was warm, but not hot. "Cannelés are from Bordeaux, not Paris, but I thought, why not try?" Rosie bit into hers and felt the slight crispness from the caramelized sugar on the exterior give way to a soft interior that was, yes, almost exactly like custard. She could taste vanilla- real vanilla, she had no doubt she'd seen flecks of vanilla beans- and the richness of eggs and milk, and oh, it was just so much better than she'd expected it to be. The contrast between inside and outside was unreal, like a magic trick- a pastry with a secret.”

FrenchPastriesVanillaCaramel
Book:Love à la Mode
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“When I was growing up, the taste of pancakes meant the kind that my great-uncle made for me from Bisquick. If condensed cream of mushroom soup was the Great Assimilator, then this "instant" baking mix was the American Dream. With it, we could do anything. Biscuits, waffles, coffee cakes, muffins, dumplings, and the list continues to grow even now in a brightly lit test kitchen full of optimism. My great-uncle used Bisquick for only one purpose, which was to make pancakes, but he liked knowing that the possibilities, the sweet and the savory, were all in that cheery yellow box. Baby Harper wasn't a fat man, but he ate like a fat man. His idea of an afternoon snack was a stack of pancakes, piled three high. After dancing together, Baby Harper and I would go into his kitchen, where he would make the dream happen. He ate his pancakes with butter and Log Cabin syrup, and I ate my one pancake plain, each bite a fluffy amalgam of dried milk and vanillin. A chemical stand-in for vanilla extract, vanillin was the cheap perfume of all the instant, industrialized baked goods of my childhood. I recognized its signature note in all the cookies that DeAnne brought home from the supermarket: Nilla Wafers, Chips Ahoy!, Lorna Doones. I loved them all. They belonged, it seemed to me, to the same family, baked by the same faceless mother or grandmother in the back of our local Piggly Wiggly supermarket. The first time that I tasted pancakes made from scratch was in 1990, when Leo, a.k.a. the parsnip, made them for me. We had just begun dating, and homemade pancakes was the ace up his sleeve. He shook buttermilk. He melted butter. He grated lemon zest. There was even a spoonful of pure vanilla extract. I couldn't bring myself to call what he made for us "pancakes." There were no similarities between those delicate disks and what my great-uncle and I had shared so often in the middle of the afternoon.”

BakingPancakesVanillaBaked GoodsFrom ScratchVanillin
Book:Bitter in the Mouth
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“She reached for a bottle on the counter behind Eleanor and rubbed a drop of vanilla behind each of the girl's ears. Eleanor raised her shoulders like it tickled. "Why do you always do that? I smell like a Strawberry Shortcake doll." "I do it," her mom said, "because it's cheaper than perfume, but it smells just as good." Then she rubbed some vanilla behind her own ears and laughed.”

PerfumeMothers And DaughtersVanilla
Book:Eleanor & Park
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“My grandma used to make syrup for us because we couldn't afford it and I just played around with her recipe. I made strawberry syrup and that didn't really work out but I made strawberry-vanilla and that sold. Then I just went out and took marketing classes, went to seminars, learned about marketing a product and striking deals. It ended up taking orders of $1.5 million.”

MadeUsedOrderDealsClassMillionsProductsMarketingWork OutRecipesGrandmaStrawberriesVanillaMy GrandmaSeminarsSyrup
Author:Farrah Gray
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“If there be any man who thinks the ruin of a race of men a small matter, compared with the last decoration and completions of hisown comfort,--who would not so much as part with his ice- cream, to save them from rapine and manacles, I think I must not hesitate to satisfy that man that also his cream and vanilla are safer and cheaper by placing the negro nation on a fair footing than by robbing them.”

IfsThinkingMenMatterLastsNationsRaceComfortFairsSlaveryIceRuinsCreamIce CreamCheaperCompletionDecorationRobbingVanilla
Book:The Essential Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson
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“We scientists can argue forever about important topics like slightly different flavors of vanilla ice cream. Consider the silliness of this debate: one group of scientists found a 90% decline of big fish and criticized fishery management. Some other scientists found an 80% decline and started a big argument with the 90% people. Who cares if it's 80% or 90%? The real question is whether it's OK to let fishermen take most of the big fish out of our oceans.”

PeopleIfsImportantDifferentRealBigsCareFoundForeverGroupsOceanArgumentScientistManagementFishesArguingDebateIceDeclineCreamTopicsWho CaresFlavorIce CreamFishermanVanillaReal QuestionsSillinessBig FishFisheriesVanilla Ice Cream
Author:Mark Powell
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“There's lotion for your face, for your hands, for your feet, for your body. Why? What would happen if you put hand lotion on your feet? Would your feet get confused and start clapping? Each kind has something special in it - aloe, shea butter, coconut, cocoa butter, vanilla, lemon extract. That's not lotion. That's one ingredient short of a Bundt cake.”

IfsKindBodyHandsHappensFacesFeetSpecialYour BodyConfusedIngredientsYour FaceCakeLemonsSomething SpecialVanillaCoconutsClappingCocoaLotion
Author:Ellen DeGeneres
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