106 Quotes About Flavors

I let all the tastes play in my mouth. The cupcake was light and creamy and subtly infused with aromatic cardamom. It was covered in a luscious rose-cardamom frosting. There were rose petals in the cake and on top, red and pink. They were fragrant and sweet and the tiniest bit salty."Joy and sorrow. Laughter and tears," I said. "These cupcakes do taste like love. And love that you wished you still had.

The chicken first, because saffron is a lazier flavor in terms of how long it takes to surface and register. Then the roti, because truffle oil and fennel both can overwhelm, unless tempered by a palate already coated with a softer spice.

The waiter returned with a pre-appetizer amuse-bouche, a soup spoon filled with diced radishes, shortbread crumbs, and a black pepper gastrique. After the waiter left, Michael Saltz said, "They're trying. Hard."The radishes had been pickled, articulating their peppery bite and giving them a sharpened edge. The shortbread grounded the bite with a bready, buttery mouthful and the black pepper-vinegar sauce finished it with an elegant and seductive wisp of sweet, salty, and spicy.

Beef with raw quail egg tasted elegant and savage, perfect with some delicate pickled chives, slicked close like veins. Bluefish came slashed with a streak of hot oil that blistered the flesh in a caramel-colored scar. The herring was paired with a curried goat cheese curd with blueberry jam. The duck breast arrived sliced like sashimi, with a smear of fresh American horseradish.

I took out my last batch of chocolates; a handful of dark and light truffles rolled in spiced cocoa powder. There's cardamom, for comfort; vanilla seeds for sweetness; green tea, rose and tamarind for harmony and goodwill. Sprinkled with gold leaf, they look like tiny Christmas baubles; prettily scented; perfectly round- how could she resist these?

Oh wow. Bliss. The adobo was perfectly calibrated between my two favorite flavor juxtapositions: sweet and tangy. And the shrimp: practically dissolving in my mouth.

Sweet.Chocolate drizzle with a hint of orange zest.Salty.Toasted hazelnuts with a smoky crunch.Soft.Dollop of pudding with vanilla bean and bourbon.Sentiment.Indigo violets sprinkled over the plate like a wash of spring.

The flavors are at once complex and earthy. I taste every ingredient: the thick, slightly gamy taste of the boar; the subtle undercurrent of the fennel, which, when braised, releases a delicate licorice perfume; the gentle creaminess of the beans; the smoky heat of the roasted peppers; the harmonious balance of the wine.

She lifts the lid from the pan of smoked green wheat kernels and dips in a spoon. "Here. Taste."He holds the spoon in his mouth for a moment. She knows what he is tasting, how the broth is flavored with pepper and garlic and lustrous, deep smokiness. "And try this," she says. Vibrant vegetable greens, garlic, and lemon. "And this." Herbal, meaty, vaguely fruity.