Gastronomy Quotes

Quotes tagged as "gastronomy" (showing 1-11 of 11)
Tim Burton
“Everything in this room is edible. Even I'm edible. But, that would be called canibalism. It is looked down upon in most societies.”
Tim Burton, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Woody Allen
“I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead. Not sick. Not wounded. Dead.”
Woody Allen

Honoré de Balzac
“And he, like many jaded people, had few pleasures left in life save good food and drink.”
Honoré de Balzac

Kingsley Amis
“A German wine label is one of the things life’s too short for.”
Kingsley Amis

Alex Morritt
“Short story collections are the literary equivalent of canapés, tapas and mezze in the world of gastronomy: Delightful assortments of tasty morsels to whet the reader's appetite.”
Alex Morritt, Impromptu Scribe

Honoré de Balzac
“No one was irritable; we have never known anyone to remain unhappy while digesting a good meal. We enjoy lingering in a becalmed state, a kind of midpoint between the reverie of a thinker and the contentment of a cud-chewing animal, a state that should be termed the physical melancholy of gastronomy.”
Honoré de Balzac, The Human Comedy: Selected Stories

“Die gastronomischen Kenntnisse sind allen Menschen nöthig, insofern alle die Summe des Vergnügens, die ihnen bestimmt ist, zu vermehren streben.”
Johann Rottenhöfer

Jeffrey Stepakoff
“Twenty-eight courses?" Dylan mused.
"Get comfortable," Grace said with anticipation.

They came on little spoons, tiny plates, in small glasses, atop mini-pedestals even speared and hung, suspended on custom-made wire serving devices like little edible works of art, which was entirely the point: mint-scented lamb lollypops, osetra and oysters on frothed tapioca, beet gazpacho and savory mustard shooters, foie gras porridge with a sweet ginger spritz in an atomizer, ankimo sashimi on house-made pop-rocks, plums in powdered yogurt, goat cheese marshmallows, venison maple syrup mastic, warm black truffle gumdrops with chilled sauternes centers. Foamed and freeze-dried, often accompanied by little spray bottles of fragrance and tiny scent-filled pillows, the food crackled and smoked and hissed and sizzled, appealing to all the senses. Thin slices of blast-frozen Kobe carpaccio were hung on little wire stands to thaw between courses at the table. All sorts of textures and presentations were set forth. Many were entirely novel and unexpected renderings of traditional dishes.
Intrigued and delighted by the sensory spectacle, Dylan and Grace enjoyed the experience immensely, oohing and aahing, and mostly laughing. For as strange as each course might be, as curious as the decorative objects that presented them, each one was an adventure of sorts, and without exception, each one was delicious, some to the point of profound. And each one came with an expertly matched extraordinary wine, in the precisely correct Riedel glass.”
Jeffrey Stepakoff, The Orchard

Dan Washburn
“I had to pace my consumption cannily, because each time I finished what was in my bowl, someone would immediately fill it up with something else. “Eat more,” they would say. “Eat more pig’s ear!”
Dan Washburn, Unsavory Elements: Stories of Foreigners on the Loose in China

Jeffrey Stepakoff
“After several courses, Dylan looked at the menu, noting that "Cheeseburger" was next up. "Okay, this is something I recognize," he said with relief.
"Don't get too excited," said Grace knowingly as she sipped the last of a bright and barnyard funky Romanee-Saint-Vivant from a big-bowled burgundy stem.
The waiter stepped out of the shadows and set two servings of the next course on the table simultaneously. Another server placed two very large Bordeaux stems on the table, and then carefully filled each with just one and a half ounces of wine. "This is Chef's cheeseburger," the waiter said. "Paired with the '70 Latour." The waiter and other server then backed away.
Dylan and Grace leaned forward, examining the strange creation.
It smelled amazing, though it looked much more like something from a science class than from a Michelin-starred restaurant-- a tiny piece of freeze-dried cheese on a teaspoon of bison tartare, lying atop a small lettuce pillow that had been filled with Vidalia onion smoke. It sat on a small warm open-face wheat bun, and the whole thing was presented on a miniature plate on which was a little pool of foamed heirloom tomato, and another of foamed mustard seed. And it was all topped with a few droplets of pureed brined Japanese cucumber.
Dylan just stared at it. "I feel like it belongs in a museum."
"I know. It's almost too beautiful to eat," Grace said.
They were both captivated by the variety of scents coming from the presentation. It did, indeed, smell like an amazing cheeseburger.
"Well, I'm gonna try," said Dylan, putting the little top bun on. Grace watched as he picked it all up with his thumb and forefinger, dapped it in the foamed tomato and mustard, and popped it in his mouth.
Dylan's mouth and nose were filled to bursting with all the expected flavors and scents of a great cheeseburger-- bread, meat and cheese, ketchup and mustard, lettuce and pickle. Oh, wow, it was good. And as he chewed, he popped the lettuce pillow, adding just the right touch of sweet onion scent and flavor to the mouthful.”
Jeffrey Stepakoff, The Orchard

Nina Killham
“Jasmine licked her finger and flipped through her notes: Smoked Chicken with Pureed Spiced Lentils, Hot Ham and Bacon Biscuits, Cassoulet Salad with Garlic Sausages. After three cookbooks, she was finally finding her voice. She had discovered her future lay in rustic, not structure. Oh, she had tried the nouvelle rage. Who could forget her Breast of Chicken on a Bed of Pureed Grapes, her Diced Brie and Kumquat Salsa, her Orange and Chocolate Salad with Grand Marnier Vinaigrette? But her instincts had rightly moved her closer to large portions. She hated the increasing fad of so much visible white plate. She preferred mounds of gorgeous food and puddles of sauces. Jasmine kneaded her heavy flesh and smiled. She had finally found her term. She was going to be a gastrofeminist. She would be Queen of Abundance, Empress of Excess. No apologies of appetite for her, no 'No thank you, I'm full,' no pushing away her plate with a sad but weary smile. Her dishes would fulfill the deepest, most primal urge. Beef stews enriched with chocolate and a hint of cinnamon, apple cakes dripping with Calvados and butter, pork sautéed with shallots, lots of cream, and mustard.”
Nina Killham, How to Cook a Tart