Dessert Quotes

“We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.”
― David Mamet, Boston Marriage

“Look, there's no metaphysics on earth like chocolates.”
― Fernando Pessoa, Collected Later Poems of Alvaro de Campos: 1928-1935

“You can tell a lot about a fellow's character by his way of eating jellybeans.”
― Ronald Reagan

“I'm not a vegetarian! I'm a dessertarian!”
― Bill Watterson, Something Under the Bed is Drooling

“I hope there's pudding!”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“I've never met a problem a proper cupcake couldn't fix.”
― Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet

“The 12-step chocoholics program: Never be more than 12 steps away from chocolate!”
― Terry Moore

“I am starting to think that maybe memories are like this dessert. I eat it, and it becomes a part of me, whether I remember it later or not.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The School of Essential Ingredients

“Dessert without cheese is like a beauty with only one eye”
― Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

“If you are not feeling well, if you have not slept, chocolate will revive you. But you have no chocolate! I think of that again and again! My dear, how will you ever manage?”
― Marie Rabutin-Chantal De Sévigné

“There are two kinds of people in the world: those who love chocolate, and communists.”
― Leslie Moak Murray

“But I, when I undress me
Each night, upon my knees
Will ask the Lord to bless me
With apple-pie and cheese.”
― Eugene Field

“Some people prefer eating dessert to the main course. These people have never been really hungry.”
― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“If you want to grow up to be a big, strong pea, you have to eat your candy," Papa Pea would say.”
― Amy Krouse Rosenthal, Little Pea

“As one who appreciated the tragic side of eating, it seemed to him that anything other than fruit for dessert implied a reprehensible frivolity, and cakes in particular ended up annihilating the flavour of quiet sadness that must be allowed to linger at the end of a great culinary performance.”
― Manuel Vázquez Montalbán, La soledad del manager

“What goes on between a man and his missus is nobody's business; especially where desert toppin's involved.”
― Tanya Huff, Nights of the Round Table and Other Stories of Heroic Fantasy

“Egilson was prompt in preparing our supper, which was accompanied by a dozen buns and, perhaps as a form of apology for the lack of apple tart, a basket of greyish-blue fruits aptly named iceberries. Finn delivered the lot, along with his apologies---there were no apples to be had in Hrafnsvik, and he had no experience with bread pudding, but he hoped we would enjoy hisbriòsupa,which he and Krystjan guessed to be the closest Ljoslander approximation. It was made with rye bread and plenty of cinnamon, cream, and raisins, and smelled divine.”
― Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

“Needing to shake off the negative energy, I decide to prepare one of the desserts---something sweet to take away the sour taste of fear infiltrating my mouth. I'm going to tackle the strawberry and lavender sorbet---the herb from Garrance's rooftop garden, the strawberries sweet and juicy. Thankfully, the recipe is easy---especially when you have three Thermomix machines at your disposal.
After commandeering most of the ingredients, I smell the lavender Garrance had bestowed upon us and another fantasy sets in. Charles and I are running through a field bursting with purple flowers in the South of France, smiling and laughing. We're kissing, softly at first, and then we're naked, exploring each other's bodies, his rippled stomach, and floating on a cloud made from the fragrance of the lavender---sweet and woodsy---
"Kate, where'd you go? You look all dreamy," says Charles.
"Nowhere. Just thinking," I say.
"You're sexy as hell when you think. You bite those full lips of yours and it's kind of distracting when I'm trying to work.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“We are cooking together again, and he asked me to pick up some salad greens and a loaf of something" Italian-ish, "so my tote bag is brimming with bunches of peppery arugula and tender lamb's lettuce and a half loaf of Rick's pane pugliese, a crusty Italian peasant bread with a delicate, open crumb and slightly sour, caramel flavor. For dessert, I decided to buy half of one of Rick's rhubarb crumble tarts---vanilla custard encased in a tender shortbread crust and topped with roasted chunks of ruby rhubarb and a buttery oatmeal crumble”
― Dana Bate, A Second Bite at the Apple

“An optimism. First you make the sherbet and then the baklava.”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, Yet Another New Land

“Grapefruit isn't usually my favorite fruit, even in the citrus family," he said, thoughtful. "But this is something else."
He was right. It should have been a simple, maybe even boring dish: grapefruit shaved ice, with thin slices of candied grapefruit and mint leaves on top, all heaped into a frozen grapefruit skin. "I think the word you're looking for istranscendent."Somehow the dish was a thousand times greater than the sum of its parts. Each bite of ice literally melted away in my mouth, transforming into something luscious and concentrated, something that brought me right back to being a little kid in my mom's lap, asking for a spoonful of the grapefruit half she'd sprinkled with sugar.
But even better. And it was beautiful, too. I was already imagining the way the miniature shards of ice would glitter in my photo, the way the crystallized grapefruit slices would shine like jewels, how the green shreds of mint would keep it from looking too much like something you'd want to wear around your neck.”
― Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot

“Bennett reached for the fork first and scooped up a perfect bite of everything, which was a relief. A relief that turned into panic when he held the fork out toward me. Not for me to take---for me to take a bite." For you, sweetheart. "His eyes sparkled behind his glasses.
I squared my shoulders. I could not believe this was happening. "Thank you, darling," I forced out, and let him feed me.
My lips closed over the fork, Bennett watching the entire time. My face warmed again at the intentness of his stare on my mouth, but surely he was just watching to see when he could remove the utensil.
The babka beignet was spectacular, light and fluffy and buttery, the chocolate filling dark and sweet against the tart brightness of the cherry. I parted my lips so that he could pull the fork back. His face was red again.
Fortunately, he didn't make me feed him, just took a bite himself.
Sadie asked, "So? What do you think?"
"Delicious," he said, but he wasn't even looking at the dessert. He was looking at me.
I couldn't even bring myself to answer. I could still feel the insistent push of his fork against my lips.”
― Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot

“The praline layer smells richly of almonds.
The ice cream layer, made of cream flash frozen and then allowed to partially melt, looks rich and luxuriant. All of it speaks to the delicacy and deftness of the hand that made it!”
― Yūto Tsukuda, Thực kích のソーマ 10 [Shokugeki no Souma 10]

“Lottie's cake is last. This one is layered three deep, impressive for a moist, snacking-style cake, which normally couldn't be stacked. The bottom layers are bound together by a thick cream cheese icing, while the top is coated with a thick streusel crumble held in place by a circle of decorative piping.
"It's a layered blueberry buckle," Lottie says, looking at Betsy hopefully.
"Nowthatis another unconventional choice from you, "Betsy says, eyeing the streusel topping, an odd choice for a layer cake.
A buckle is a humble sort of cake--- old-fashioned in its simplicity--- that she hasn't seen around in years. Nowadays most prefer a thick layer of icing, buttercream they can decorate, or the scraped edge of a naked cake. Something meant to impress on a table or in a photograph rather than just be eaten at a family dinner or on a picnic. Secretly it's kind of a relief to see such a normal person's cake given its due.
"The decoration is lacking," Betsy tells her flatly, though the completely bare sides show an even sprinkling of blueberries, which is impressive. It can be difficult to keep berries from falling to the bottom of a cake, but these are evenly distributed throughout.
The knife glides into the cake, which has a springy sort of give to it. She cleaves a slice away, leaving a small avalanche of streusel crumbs in its wake. The cake inside is plump and golden, studded with juicy blueberries. Betsy can tell before she even takes a bite that it has been cooked to perfection.
The flavors hit her tongue and bring on a wave of nostalgia so strong that she has to steady herself against the table. It is heavenly, the sweet and sour of the blueberries wrapped in the soft vanilla-y cake. She is instantly transported back in time, back to her childhood. It is unquestionably the best cake of the bunch, simple and satisfying, the kind that if you were to bake it at home would leave you wanting more, taking secret trips to the kitchen to cut another slice.”
― Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon

“When I was a child, charlottes--- French desserts made traditionally out of brioche, ladyfingers, or sponge and baked in a charlotte mold--- were everywhere. Charlotte au chocolat wasn't the only variety, though being chocolate, it had the edge on my mother's autumn-season apple charlotte braised with brioche and poached in clarified butter, and even on the magnificent charlotte Malakoff she used to serve in the summer: raspberries, slivered almonds, and Grand Marnier in valleys of vanilla custard.
But it is charlotte au chocolat, being my namesake dessert, that I remember most, for we offered it on the menu all year long. I walked into the pastry station and saw them cooling in their rusted tin molds on the counter. I saw them scooped onto lace doilies and smothered in Chantilly cream, starred with candied violets and sprigs of wet mint. I saw them lit by birthday candles. I saw them arranged, by the dozens, on silver trays for private parties. I saw them on customers' plates, destroyed, the Chantilly cream like a tumbled snowbank streaked with soot from the chocolate. And charlottes smelled delightful: they smelled richer, I thought, than any dessert in the world. The smell made me think of black velvet holiday dresses and grown-up perfumes in crystal flasks. It made me want to collapse and never eat again.”
― Charlotte Silver, Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood

“On a typical night at the Pudding, I might order an appetizer of shrimp rolled in brown-butter bread crumbs on skewers, so the oil wouldn't spread on your hands. For an entree: squab with black lentils and bacon, only in the pink light of the dining room the lentils weren't black, but blue--- a deep, inky blue. And for dessert, I might ask for my favorite treat: candied violets on a lace doily. My teeth cracked open each crystalline blossom, and I could smell the sheets of wax paper they came in mingled with the sugar.”
― Charlotte Silver, Charlotte Au Chocolat: Memories of a Restaurant Girlhood

“SAFFRON SUMMER COMPOTE
Compote de Pêches aux Safran

A few threads of saffron add depth--- maybe even a little fancy-pants--- to this summer compote. I make mine with a mix of white and yellow peaches and juicy nectarines, whatever I have on hand. Top your morning yogurt, layer in a parfait, or serve with a slice of pound cake and a dollop of crème fraîche. When I get my canning act together, this is what I'm going to make, jars and jars of golden days to last me through the chill of winter.

2 pounds of slightly overripe fruit (a mix of peaches, nectarines, and apricots)
1 tablespoon of raw sugar
2 good pinches of saffron

Cut the fruit into 1-inch cubes. I don't especially feel the need to peel. In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the fruit and sugar. Bring to a boil, stir in the saffron, and let simmer over low heat until thickened and slightly reduced; mine took about 40 minutes. Serve warm or cold.

Serves 6-8”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Unlike me, my mother loves plums. This, coupled with some leftover red wine, leads to a fruitful development. I roasted the plums in a medium oven with the wine, added a split vanilla bean, a cinnamon stick, and the tiniest bit of sugar. The plums gave way, exchanging the springiness for a comforting sag. The wine bubbled into a spiced burgundy syrup, thick and glossy. I served it withfaiselle,a mild spoonable cheese, though I sense that sour cream, Greek yogurt, or mascarpone wouldn't go amiss.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“There's one last drink remaining, a tall and narrow glass full of bubbly golden liquid. There are sliced strawberries submerged beneath a topping of vanilla ice cream. Alexander hands it to her.
"What is it?" she asks.
"A strawberry prosecco float. Who says vanilla ice cream can't be fancy?”
― Katrina Kwan, Knives, Seasoning, & A Dash of Love

“There's also dessert--- sorry, I mean the mizugashi course. So please take your time,' said Koishi, shrugging her shoulders.
'That's right, Koishi. There's no such thing as "dessert" in Japanese cuisine. The fruit served at the end of the meal is called mizugashi. We're not in France, after all!' said Tae, her nostrils flaring.
'Really, Tae, you never change, do you? Always fussing over the strangest things... I'm not sure it really matters,' said Nobuko, setting down her bowl.
'No, itdoesmatter. If you mess around with language like that, it's culture that suffers. Traditional Japanese sweet dishes are in decline precisely because people insist on calling them English words like "dessert"!”
― Hisashi Kashiwai, The Kamogawa Food Detectives