“
Pots hung from the ceiling beams, between the festoons of braided garlic, the hams, the salsicce, bunches of mountain herbs for medicine, strings of dried porcini, necklaces of dried apple rings in winter, chains of dried figs. The smell of onions, of hot lard and smoldering oak wood, of cinnamon and pepper, always seemed to hang in the air. The larder was full of meat at all times, needless to say: not small pieces, but huge joints and sides of beef and lamb, which Mamma and Carenza could never
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”
― Appetite
― Appetite
“
She looked at the city streets coated in rain, the early light illuminating their inky blackness, their darkness beautifully framed by the lighter concrete gutters and sidewalks.
Broadway looks just like a big blackberry galette, Sam thought, before shaking her head at the terrible analogy.
That would have earned a C minus in English lit, she thought, but my instructors at culinary school would be proud.
Sam slowed for a second and considered the streets. So would my family, she added.
New York
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”
― The Recipe Box
― The Recipe Box
