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“I came to apologize.”
“How about lunch?”
“Din...
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“Cof...
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The high point because she was the most intelligent, insightful, intriguing—and yes—the most alarmingly attractive woman he’d ever met in his life. The low point: she always seemed in a hurry to leave. And whenever she did, he felt desperate and depressed for the rest of the day.
She’d finally met someone she could actually talk to—someone she found infinitely intelligent, insightful, intriguing (and alarmingly attractive whenever he smiled)—and he had no interest in her.
And yet after each meeting—which she ended as soon as she could because she was afraid she would kiss him—she felt desperate and depressed for the rest of the day.
I’m a good cook, Calvin. Cooking is serious science. In fact, it’s chemistry.”
Calvin had nodded excitedly, explaining in detail Elizabeth’s work and habits and laugh and everything else he loved about her.
without weekend
“For the love of god, Elizabeth. It’s just a name. It doesn’t matter. You’re you—that’s what matters.”
“I don’t want to marry you anymore.”
@200° C/35 min = loss of one H2O per mol. sucrose; total 4 in 55 min = C24H36O18 she wrote in a notebook. “So that’s why the biscuit batter is off.”
“which will allow the freed atoms to bond with other similarly freed atoms. Then I’ll reconstitute the mix into a loose whole, laying it on a surface of iron-carbon alloy, where I’ll subject it to precision heat, continually agitating the mix until it reaches a stage of near coagulation.”
“Pass the sodium chloride.”
“Rowing, eh?” Donatti said, rolling his eyes. Evans.
For a second time, he’d saved the person he loved the most, and the best part was, she didn’t know.
From below, Six-Thirty exhaled. Lies, lies, and more lies.
Calvin smiled to himself. It was a side of Elizabeth he’d never seen before: a mothering instinct.
It wasn’t because he cared about saving gas; it was because he couldn’t stand the thought of Elizabeth driving home alone.
But how could he not fuss over the person he loved more than anything, more than seemed even possible?
But that was before Elizabeth—before he realized that making her happy made him happy.
shoving the hands that had once held her down dark sleeves; cramming the legs that once wrapped around her through woolen cylinders.
Even in death, Zott and Evans acted as if the rules didn’t apply to them.
But when she opened it, her heart nearly stopped. Inside was a small blue box. And inside that, the biggest small diamond she had ever seen.
After that day in the cafeteria—when Eddie looked at Zott in a way he’d never once looked at her—Frask found Zott hateable.
People often underestimate what a pregnant woman is capable of, but people always underestimate what a grieving pregnant woman is capable of.
“But you’re going to be a mother,” he said, tutting. “A mother and a scientist,” she said,
Because what does one say to someone who’s lost everything?
“Cream and sugar?” Elizabeth asked as she removed the stopper from the flask and started to pour.
“Take a moment for yourself,” Harriet said. “Every day.”
“A moment where you are your own priority. Just you. Not your baby, not your work, not your dead Mr. Evans, not your filthy house, not anything. Just you. Elizabeth Zott. Whatever you need, whatever you want, whatever you seek, reconnect with it in that moment.” She gave a sharp tug to her fake pearls. “Then recommit.”
would recommit to her goal. To be in love. Real love.
She couldn’t remember how soon into their marriage she began to realize she wasn’t in love with him, nor he with her,
Mad, he considered, chewing a biscuit. Madge. Mary. Monica. He withdrew another biscuit, crunching loudly. He was very fond of his biscuits—yet another triumph from the kitchens of Elizabeth Zott. It made him think, Why not name the baby after something in the kitchen? Pot. Pot Zott. Or from the lab? Beaker. Beaker Zott. Or maybe something that actually meant chemistry—something like, well, Chem? But Kim.
“The I-hate-people gene?” Harriet said. “There is one?”
“Are you sad, honey?”
“No. But you are.”
longed for a simpler position—something that
“Are we poor?” Madeline asked, as if that question naturally followed the former.
“If you’re smart and you work hard, doesn’t that mean you make more money?”
“It’s just that he made a different choice. Money isn’t everything.”
Maybe I’m just trying to please my father. Isn’t that what we all do in the end?
“Cooking is science, Mr. Pine. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
Had she been fired for killing her lover?
“We are on the same page, aren’t we?”
“The tomato I hold in my hand is different from the one you hold in yours. That’s why you must involve yourself with your ingredients. Experiment: taste, touch, smell, look, listen, test, assess.”
If they cancel me, so be it. I’ll do something else.”
“Well, sometimes we have to do things we don’t feel like doing.”
“Some people think you can’t miss what you never had, but I think you can. Do you?”
