A writing cook and a cooking writer must be bold at the desk as well as the stove.
Perhaps they should feel this safe sand blow away so that their heads are uncovered for a time, so that they will have to taste not only the solid honesty of my red borscht, but the new flavor of the changing world.
Painting, it is true, was undergoing a series of -isms reminiscent of the whims of a pregnant woman.
put Rachel facing the door, in a faint subtle effort to make her know that if he had only had enough money and had managed to finish the thesis, he might well have asked her to be his hostess and share her life with him.
I let myself exist mainly through my children… [but] I could not even guess at the lives my children led.
…after rare beef and wine, when the lobes turn red, was the time to ask favours or tell bad news.
Probably one of the most private things in the world is an egg before it is broken.
Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.
I cannot count the good people I know who, to my mind, would be even better if they bent their spirits to the study of their own hungers.
There is communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk.
You may feel that you have eaten too much…But this pastry is likefeathers – it is like snow. It is in fact good for you, a digestive!
…having bowed to the inevitability of the dictum that we must eat to live, we should ignore it and live to eat…
I was horribly self-conscious; I wanted everybody to look at me and think me the most fascinating creature in the world, and yet I died a small hideous death if I saw even one person throw a casual glance at me.
our dispassionate acceptance of attrition…[can] be matched by a full use of everything that has ever happened in all the long wonderful-ghastly years to free a person’s mind from his body.
If I were rich, I would buy him a new black suit. … If I had next week’s allowance and had not spent this week’s on three Cherry Flips …