78 Quotes by Erica Bauermeister

You know," Marion said, "I met a woman once when I was a teenager. I knew she had gone through a lot but she was so strong, so compassionate. I asked her how she could be the way she was, and you know what she told me?" Hadley shook her head. "She said, 'You can be broken, or broken open. That choice is yours.

I listened, while the scents found their hiding places in the cracks in the floorboards, and the words of the story, and the rest of my life.

Scents were always about what was growing and what was dying. What would last through the next season. This was just with people instead of trees or flowers or dirt. Maybe I could read them after all. The thought gave me hope.

Back before there was time, I lived with my father on an island, tucked away in an endless archipelago that reached up out of the cold salt water, hungry for air.

She felt about her zester the way some women do about a pair of spiky red shoes--a frivolous splurge, good only for parties, but oh so lovely.

We’re all just ingredients. What matters is the grace with which you cook the meal.

When a couple came to class together, it meant something else entirely - food as a solution, a diversion, or, occasionally, a playground.

She simply didn't have an interest in men anymore. It wasn't that she didn't like them, she just knew how easily they broke.

She opened the kitchen door and the smells came to greet her. The sensual, come-hither scent of chocolate cake. Mint, for the customer who always liked hers fresh-picked for her late-night tea. Red pepper seeds and onion skins, waiting in the compost pail that Finnegan had not, she could tell, emptied last night. Cooked boar meat from a ragout sauce that was a winter tradition, the smell striding toward her like a strong, sweaty hunter.