Kim Fay > Kim's Quotes

“...when we were walking through Angkor War, I found myself wondering about what is lost when one culture is systematically annihilated so another can thrive in the name of progress. Think about it, what might have happened if Cambodia hadn't eventually been taken over by Siam and then France - what the Cambodians could offer the world if they're given the opportunity to follow through with what they're meant to become.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“When Angkorian society began, Paris and London were not much more than elaborate villages. Europe was crawling with barbarians, and here were the Khmer engineering sophisticated irrigation systems and constructing the biggest temple in the world.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“More than any expert Irene had met, Mr. Simms mastered the intricacies of dealing in art. He understood an object's worth, not solely its dollar value but how that value could be manipulated into emotional currency.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“Even if you don't find what you think you're looking for, darling, it's the going out and looking for it that counts.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“Too many people surrender to a place of safety. That place where all they do is long to sleep so they can dream about living.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“The one thing to remember about an adventure is that if it turns out the way you expect it to, it has not been an adventure at all.”
― Kim Fay, The Map of Lost Memories

“A rowboat, without oars. An outboard motor. As you can sit there for years, forever, with that outboard motor, pulling again, and yet again, that rope, or cord, or wire, or whatever it is, and winding yet again, and each time, every single time, the motor, though it may give a cough or two, will fail to start, though if it starts, and when it starts, you are, at whatever speed you choose, within the engine's limits and the hazards of the course, well on your way, until it starts you are no nearer where you were going on the fifteenth try than on the first; the enterprise may last forever, and never yet quite begin. The fact seems to be, however, that unless some apparently unrelated event should intervene -- a bullet, a heart attack, a cry from shore that dinner's ready, or company has come, or junior's run away -- the engine will eventually start. In the meantime, though, while you have been intensely busy, it is difficult to account for how the time is spent.”
― Renata Adler, Pitch Dark

“If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.”
― Toni Morrison

“The less we cement ourselves to our certainties, the fuller our lives can be.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Spring is such a hopeful time on the island, and despite the pall that continues to hover over our nation, I find it impossible to resist. The air is still chilly as a well-digger's ear first thing in the morning, but as the hours pass it hints at the warmth to come in later months. As the days become longer, the rains change. They are less punishing and more promising, bringing out the native grasses and glimpses of green on the trees. Then there are the little families of deer, grazing as if the entire island is a spring buffet, and wild rabbits are hopping everywhere.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Our crab pots are out front, and Francis has fixed a big metal barrel right on the beach. He lights a good fire to get the water boiling, and after the crabs are cooked, we women sit on the patio shucking until we have a mountain of meat in the middle of the table. We stir up buckets of cocktail sauce from catsup, mayonnaise, Worcestershire, lemon juice, and celery salt, and the kids come running. They eat on their towels on the sand, soaking up as much sun as possible to get them through the next winter.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“I notice you have written about mussels a few times, but you only ever mention cooking clams. I recently learned a creative mussels recipe from a Frenchwoman I met on a voyage to the Far East. I am enclosing a packet of saffron from that voyage. It is my small way of thanking you for "Letters from the Island."
For steamed mussels, in a stockpot add a generous pinch of saffron, coarsely chopped garlic, and parsley to a half cup of melted butter. The red enamel pot you mentioned in your column about racing Dungeness crabs, the one with the pockmark from your niece's Red Ryder BB gun, will do perfectly. If you can't find fresh garlic, shallots can be substituted, but in my opinion, without fresh garlic the dish isn't worth making. The Frenchwoman told me the addition of a cup or so of white wine is considered standard for this broth, but she prefers vermouth. I agree with her. It gives the dish a crisp, botanical flavor, and I can save my Chablis for drinking with my meal.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Your mention of Elizabeth David reminded me of her recipe for risotto alla Milanese, which I have wanted to try for a long time. As I am sure was the case in your area, the grocery store shelves went bare as everyone prepared for end times. In a harebrained panic, I rushed to C & K Importing for their gallon cans of artichoke hearts, and by the time I got to the Mayfair, all the macaroni and bottled water were gone. Fortunately, I already had the ingredients for risotto in my pantry.
It was a balm to turn my attention to rice and butter. It was my own small way of rebuffing shattered nerves and the Reds, although I suppose hamburgers or hot dogs would have been a more appropriate form of patriotic resistance.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“I don't have anything as exotic as saffron. I hope a jar of blackberry jam will do. As you know, I write often about picking wild native blackberries. It's a chore since they're not easy game like the big purple bubbles that grow all over the sides of the road around here. Whenever I set out to hunt for a hidden patch in an old clear-cut, Francis accuses me of looking like a hobo with my canvas sunhat, khaki trousers, and Folgers cans tied over my shoulders. I don't care. When I'm in the brambles, I'm happy as a clam at high tide. Just writing to you about it makes me wish for July mornings. There's always a perfect moment when the sun strikes the bushes and a deep, sweet, earthy smell rises into the air.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Your jam puts store-bought to shame. As I ate it on a fresh croissant from the French bakery at the Farmers Market down the street from my house, I savored the image you painted with your words. I would love to spend a summer morning in the Pacific Northwest sunshine picking wild blackberries. I also crave your backyard access to crisp apples, plums, and pears, although I am not sure I would trade them for the grapefruit and oranges I pluck from my own trees for breakfast whenever I like.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Spring is well underway, and the wild cherry trees are in full bloom. The fields are filled with darling violets and buttercups, and the sides of the road lined with the blossoms that will become berries in the summer heat. I know from the weather report that a crisp spring light is shining down on the navy blue water of Saratoga Passage, and my view, whether I can see it or not, will remain unchanged. I wrote to you once about the comfort I find in that. This remains true.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron

“Dazzling jacaranda petals covered the sidewalk like a carpet of amethyst velvet. It always amazes me how the trees sit so quietly, unnoticed all spring, until one day it feels as if every single one throughout the city bursts with blossoms at the exact same second.”
― Kim Fay, Love & Saffron