Cooks Must Feed Their Egos As Well

Brioches Are A Light, Pale Yellow, Faintly Sweet Kind Of Muffin With A Characteristic Blob On Top, Rather Like A Mushroom Just Pushing Crookedly Through The Ground. Once Eaten In Paris, They Never Taste As Good Anywhere Else.

Hunger Is More Than A Problem Of Belly And Guts, And ... The Satisfying Of It Can And Must And Does Nourish The Spirit As Well As The Body.

Sharing Food With Another Human Being Is An Intimate Act That Should Not Be Indulged In Lightly.

The Smell Of Good Bread Baking, Like The Sound Of Lightly Flowing Water, Is Indescribable In Its Evocation Of Innocence And Delight... [breadmaking Is] One Of Those Almost Hypnotic Businesses, Like A Dance From Some Ancient Ceremony. It Leaves You Filled With One Of The World's Sweetest Smells... There Is No Chiropractic Treatment, No Yoga Exercise, No Hour Of Meditation In A Music-throbbing Chapel. That Will Leave You Emptier Of Bad Thoughts Than This Homely Ceremony Of Making Bread.

...i Prefer Not To Have Among My Guests Two People Or More, Of Any Sex, Who Are In The First Wild Tremours Of Love. It Is Better To Invite Them After Their New Passion Has Settled, Has Solidified Into A Quieter Reciprocity Of Emotions. (it Is Also A Waste Of Good Food, To Serve It To New Lovers.)