Dessert Quotes

“We must have a pie. Stress cannot exist in the presence of a pie.”
― David Mamet, Boston Marriage

“Look, there's no metaphysics on earth like chocolates.”
― Fernando Pessoa, The Collected Poems Of Alvaro De Campos: 1928 1935: V. 2

“You can tell a lot about a fellow's character by his way of eating jellybeans. ”
― Ronald Reagan

“I'm not a vegetarian! I'm a dessertarian!”
― Bill Watterson, Something Under the Bed is Drooling

“I hope there's pudding!”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“I've never met a problem a proper cupcake couldn't fix.”
― Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet

“The 12-step chocoholics program: Never be more than 12 steps away from chocolate!”
― Terry Moore

“I am starting to think that maybe memories are like this dessert. I eat it, and it becomes a part of me, whether I remember it later or not.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The School of Essential Ingredients

“If you are not feeling well, if you have not slept, chocolate will revive you. But you have no chocolate! I think of that again and again! My dear, how will you ever manage?”
― Marie Rabutin-Chantal De Sévigné

“Dessert without cheese is like a beauty with only one eye”
― Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

“There are two kinds of people in the world: those who love chocolate, and communists.”
― Leslie Moak Murray

“But I, when I undress me
Each night, upon my knees
Will ask the Lord to bless me
With apple-pie and cheese.”
― Eugene Field

“Some people prefer eating dessert to the main course. These people have never been really hungry.”
― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“If you want to grow up to be a big, strong pea, you have to eat your candy," Papa Pea would say.”
― Amy Krouse Rosenthal, Little Pea

“As one who appreciated the tragic side of eating, it seemed to him that anything other than fruit for dessert implied a reprehensible frivolity, and cakes in particular ended up annihilating the flavour of quiet sadness that must be allowed to linger at the end of a great culinary performance.”
― Manuel Vázquez Montalbán, La Soledad Del Manager

“What goes on between a man and his missus is nobody's business; especially where desert toppin's involved.”
― Tanya Huff, Nights of the Round Table and Other Stories of Heroic Fantasy

“There was something about her voice that made Bruno think of dolci, of meringues and sweet zabaglione, and peaches bubbling as they poached in wine.”
― Anthony Capella, The Food of Love

“She comes downstairs and is surprised to be handed a curious-looking bouquet.
Only on closer inspection does it become apparent that this is, in fact, a bunch made up of candied flowers---pale orange blossoms, bright blue florets of borage, even tender young rosebuds, all encased in hard, clear shells of sugar, like tiny caramel apples.”
― Anthony Capella, The Food of Love

“For sheer showmanship, it is hard to beat the creation of a really flashy dessert. Without asking Benedetta's permission, Bruno assembled his ingredients. Eggs. Sugar. Cream. Pastry. A large dish of black currants and other fruits from the garden.
First he spun sugar into delicate lattice bowls of crisp brown caramel. Then he made meringues, inside which he placed individual baked peaches. Where the peach stone had been, he inserted a berry gelato, made with pieces of solid fruit.”
― Anthony Capella, The Food of Love

“The sauce. Memories flooded into her brain. It was zabaione. She had a sudden vision of herself, that first night in Tomasso's apartment, licking sauce from her fingers.
Coffee. The next taste was coffee. Memories of Gennaro's espresso, and mornings in bed with a cup of cappuccino... but what was this? Bread soaked in sweet wine. And nuts--- a thin layer of hazelnut paste---and then fresh white peaches, sweet as sex itself, and then a layer of black chocolate so strong and bitter she almost stopped dead. There was more sweetness beyond it, though, a layer of pastry flavored with blackberries, and, right at the center, a single tiny fig.
She put down the spoon, amazed. It was all gone. She had eaten it without being aware of eating, her mind in a reverie.
"Did you like it?"
She looked up. Somehow she wasn't surprised. "What was it?" she asked.
"It doesn't have a name," Bruno said. "It's just... it's just the food of love.”
― Anthony Capella, The Food of Love

“Chief pulls the car to a stop, remembering my favorite flavor, Wild Cherry Larry. Surprisingly, Bitsy claims her own Gilbert Grape, Mother opts for Spear-a-Mindy, and Chief goes for Lucky Duck Rainbow---a colorful concoction of blueberry, banana, and strawberry for the young at heart.”
― Julie Cantrell, Perennials

“I pulled one of my individual buko pandan trifles out of the refrigerated tote bag I was carrying. Considering how little time I had to come up with the recipe, I was proud of how they'd turned out: bright green pandan chiffon cake brushed with a lambanog-spiked pandan sugar syrup, coconut custard, thin slices of juicy red strawberries, all topped off with coconut whipped cream, strawberries, and glittery nonpareils.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Blackmail and Bibingka

“Food for the Gods was a rich, buttery date and walnut bar, which doesn't sound all that special, but there was something absolutely addictive about it. Bernadette claimed to hate dates, yet she could eat an entire tray of these bars all by herself, they were that good.
Between the five of us, we demolished Lola Flor's desserts, despite how full we were before they arrived. There truly was a separate stomach for sweets.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Blackmail and Bibingka

“I live for your bibingka. I thought I was doomed when I found out that I had celiac disease and couldn't have gluten anymore. My life was pastries. But this Joey, gooey, coconutty rice flour cake saved me. All the sweetness and satisfaction I crave from a pastry, but without the gluten. I'll love you forever for introducing me to it.”
― Sarah Echavarre Smith, The Boy With the Bookstore

“The last one is a fun rice ball.
The filling is ground black sesame and walnuts flavored with sweet honey. We made a rice ball out of that...
... and coated it with kinako soybean powder."
"Huh... a sweet rice ball."
"I've never seen a rice ball coated in kinako."
"Ha ha ha... this is fun."
"The black sesame and walnut isn't just sweet--- it also has a wonderful scent. Come to think of it, this really is the taste of Japan."
"The taste of good old Japan too."
"Sesame, walnut, powdered soybeans and honey. The combination of these sweet flavors...
It soothes the heart, doesn't it?"
"This really is like a dessert.”
― Tetsu Kariya, The Joy of Rice

“Needing to shake off the negative energy, I decide to prepare one of the desserts---something sweet to take away the sour taste of fear infiltrating my mouth. I'm going to tackle the strawberry and lavender sorbet---the herb from Garrance's rooftop garden, the strawberries sweet and juicy. Thankfully, the recipe is easy---especially when you have three Thermomix machines at your disposal.
After commandeering most of the ingredients, I smell the lavender Garrance had bestowed upon us and another fantasy sets in. Charles and I are running through a field bursting with purple flowers in the South of France, smiling and laughing. We're kissing, softly at first, and then we're naked, exploring each other's bodies, his rippled stomach, and floating on a cloud made from the fragrance of the lavender---sweet and woodsy---
"Kate, where'd you go? You look all dreamy," says Charles.
"Nowhere. Just thinking," I say.
"You're sexy as hell when you think. You bite those full lips of yours and it's kind of distracting when I'm trying to work.”
― Samantha Verant, The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

“We are cooking together again, and he asked me to pick up some salad greens and a loaf of something "Italian-ish," so my tote bag is brimming with bunches of peppery arugula and tender lamb's lettuce and a half loaf of Rick's pane pugliese, a crusty Italian peasant bread with a delicate, open crumb and slightly sour, caramel flavor. For dessert, I decided to buy half of one of Rick's rhubarb crumble tarts---vanilla custard encased in a tender shortbread crust and topped with roasted chunks of ruby rhubarb and a buttery oatmeal crumble”
― Dana Bate, A Second Bite at the Apple

“An optimism. First you make the sherbet and then the baklava.”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, Yet Another New Land

“Grapefruit isn't usually my favorite fruit, even in the citrus family," he said, thoughtful. "But this is something else."
He was right. It should have been a simple, maybe even boring dish: grapefruit shaved ice, with thin slices of candied grapefruit and mint leaves on top, all heaped into a frozen grapefruit skin. "I think the word you're looking for is transcendent." Somehow the dish was a thousand times greater than the sum of its parts. Each bite of ice literally melted away in my mouth, transforming into something luscious and concentrated, something that brought me right back to being a little kid in my mom's lap, asking for a spoonful of the grapefruit half she'd sprinkled with sugar.
But even better. And it was beautiful, too. I was already imagining the way the miniature shards of ice would glitter in my photo, the way the crystallized grapefruit slices would shine like jewels, how the green shreds of mint would keep it from looking too much like something you'd want to wear around your neck.”
― Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot

“Bennett reached for the fork first and scooped up a perfect bite of everything, which was a relief. A relief that turned into panic when he held the fork out toward me. Not for me to take---for me to take a bite. "For you, sweetheart." His eyes sparkled behind his glasses.
I squared my shoulders. I could not believe this was happening. "Thank you, darling," I forced out, and let him feed me.
My lips closed over the fork, Bennett watching the entire time. My face warmed again at the intentness of his stare on my mouth, but surely he was just watching to see when he could remove the utensil.
The babka beignet was spectacular, light and fluffy and buttery, the chocolate filling dark and sweet against the tart brightness of the cherry. I parted my lips so that he could pull the fork back. His face was red again.
Fortunately, he didn't make me feed him, just took a bite himself.
Sadie asked, "So? What do you think?"
"Delicious," he said, but he wasn't even looking at the dessert. He was looking at me.
I couldn't even bring myself to answer. I could still feel the insistent push of his fork against my lips.”
― Amanda Elliot, Best Served Hot