Best 2531 quotes in «food quotes» category

Motivation 1.0 presumed that humans were biological creatures, struggling to obtain our basic needs for food, security and sex. Motivation 2.0 presumed that humans also responded to rewards and punishments. That worked fine for routine tasks but incompatible with how we organize what we do, how we think about what we do, and how we do what we do. We need an upgrade. Motivation 3.0, the upgrade we now need, presumes that humans also have a drive to learn, to create, and to better the world.

Movie without romance feels like food without flavor.

Msamaha si jambo dogo. Watu wadogo, watu wenye uwezo mdogo wa kufikiri, hawawezi kupambana na changamoto za msamaha. Msamaha ni kwa ajili ya watu wenye macho kama ya tai wanaoweza kuona mbali ambao wako tayari kushindwa vita ili washinde vita. Hewa inaingia ndani ya mapafu na kutoka; chakula kinaingia ndani ya mwili na kutoka; mwanamasumbwi anapigana bila kugombana; injini ya gari haiwezi kusukuma gari mbele au nyuma bila kutoa hewa katika paipu ya ekzosi. Lakini kile kinachoingia moyoni mwako hakitoki! Maumivu yanapoingia ndani ya moyo yanapaswa kutoka nje kama yalivyoingia kwa sababu, yasipotoka yatatengeneza sumu ndani ya moyo wako na yatatengeneza sumu ndani ya roho yako pia. Sumu hiyo itahatarisha safari yako ya mbinguni na Mungu hatakusamehe tena. Badala ya yule aliyekukosea kuumia, utaumia wewe uliyekosewa. Yesu anaposema samehe saba mara sabini hatanii. Usiposamehe, hutasamehewa.

Mrs Guinea answered my letter and invited me to lunch at her home. That was where I saw my first finger-bowl. The water had a few cherry blossoms floating in it, and I thought it must be some clear sort of Japanese after-dinner soup and ate every bit of it, including the crisp little blossoms. Mrs Guinea never said anything, and it was only much later, when I told a debutant I knew at college about dinner, that I learned what I had done.

-Może dokładkę duszonego żebraka? Rozkojarzona pokręciła głową i spojrzała bezmyślnie na pusty talerz. I wtedy zamarła. W ogrodzie służący zbierali ciała i zabierali je do środka. -Powiedziałeś żeberka, prawda?

Much was said, and much was ate, and all went well.

My Aunt Sara says it's in our blood, an innate need to tell a story through food. 'Buela says it's definitely a blessing, magic.

My companions ate the bear. I found I had no appetite.

My comfort with food simply outweighed my determination to be a smaller size.

My Body Wants to Crave Healthy. I Just Need to Give it the Opportunity.

My definition of man is a cooking animal. The beasts have memory, judgement, and the faculties and passions of our minds in a certain degree; but no beast is a cook.

My father insisted I eat red meat. 'You'll lose your brain without food,' he said. A meal to him without beef was starvation.

My favorite of all was still the place on Vermont, the French cafe, La Lyonnaise, that had given me the best onion soup on that night with George and my father. The two owners hailed from France, from Lyon, before the city had boomed into a culinary sibling of Paris. Inside, it had only a few tables, and the waiters served everything out of order, and it had a B rating in the window, and they usually sat me right by the swinging kitchen door, but I didn't care about any of it. There, I ordered chicken Dijon, or beef Bourguignon, or a simple green salad, or a pate sandwich, and when it came to the table, I melted into whatever arrived. I lavished in a forkful of spinach gratin on the side, at how delighted the chef had clearly been over the balance of spinach and cheese, like she was conducting a meeting of spinach and cheese, like a matchmaker who knew they would shortly fall in love. Sure, there were small distractions and preoccupations in it all, but I could find the food in there, the food was the center, and the person making the food was so connected with the food that I could really, for once, enjoy it.

My favourite food is cake. What kind of cake? It doesn't matter. All cake.

My guess is that the Jonathan would be as out of place in England or Kazakhstan, the native ground of its ancestors, as I would be in Russia, the native ground of my own. The arrow of natural history won’t be reversed: by now the Jonathan’s as much an American as I am.

My love for peanut butter is so deep that I can't look at a jar without devouring it!

My mother use to say she would rather be dead than not eat the foods she liked. At eighty-six she met with death but she enjoyed every breath

My parents had drinks and there were crudités for us- although they were not called crudités at the time, they were called carrots and celery.

My safety rules for eating from the food buffet: 1. Eat the hot food, as it is the least likely to food poison you. 2. Avoid the cold food, as it may have bacterial contamination. 3. Wash your hands, as they may have bacterial contamination from the handles of the food ladles. 4. Do not eat with your hands, use the knife, fork and spoon.

My philosophy in life is to eat, drink and investigate - in that order.

My yogurt was nestled into a bag, waiting to turn into aushak, and all around us were sausages and pastry, lollipops and spices, chicken and cheese. Any world that contained all this, I thought surveying our loot, was a very fine place. I felt reinvigorated, alive, optimistic. The though of getting back to work suddenly seemed like fun.

Nana’s oven-baked fried chicken cut off the bone (with plenty of ketchup) was a huge hit. So were Thanksgiving turkey bathed in gravy and Nana’s Passover brisket

Nebylo tu nic pořádného k snědku, bylo to jenom velké akvárium, jehož stěny tvořily místo skleněných tabulí ze dvou stran břehy, dole písek, a nahoře nebe. A kolem dokola kvetly pomněnky a říkali vzpomínej.

Nearly everyone wants as least one outstanding meal a day.

Nearly every historic fruit and vegetable variety once found in the United States has disappeared.

Neighbours complaining about someone’s dog making an awful racket. You could hardly blame the poor beast, its owner had died in her bed at least a fortnight before and there hadn’t been much left of the old girl worth eating.

Neptune's bounty was followed by that of Diana. I had staged a "hunt" to take place while the diners ate. Several of the bigger slaves were dressed like bears, and hunters with bows chased them playfully around the couches while nymphs tried to hinder their progress. They ran carefully around the slaves serving trays of pork cracklings, mushrooms marinated in wine, stuffed dormice, and figs soaked in milk and honey.

Nettie set out a loaf of sourdough bread from Baker's Way Bakers, a wodge of runny Camembert, and a container of leftover lamb, rich with garlic and rosemary, nestled on a bed of spicy arugula from the home garden. She'd plucked two sharp green apples from one of the trees in their tiny orchard, and she placed a waxed bag of caramel shortbread beside them.

Never judge the deeds of a starving man while you’re on a full tummy.

Nell’alimentazione dell’ispettore la polenta aveva preso il posto del pane – e non solo. Mai provato polenta e Nutella? Sublime. E polenta e maionese? E polenta e melone? E polenta all’amatriciana? Fino al gesto più estremo di tutti: intingere la polenta nel caffè.

Never before have the American people had their noses so deeply in one another's business. If I announce that I and eleven other diners shared a thirty-seven-course lunch that likely cost as much as a new Volvo station wagon, Those of a critical nature will let their minds run in tiny, aghast circles of condemnation. My response to them is that none of us twelve disciples of gourmandise wanted a new Volvo. We wanted only lunch and since lunch lasted approximately eleven hours we saved money by not having to buy diner. The defense rests.

Never underestimate the power of good food. Eating delicious food can be a life-changing experience.

Never say no to free food. Unless you are the free food.

Never trust a German to get a sauce right. Their solution to everything is just add more butter.

New Rule: Americans have to come up with a better cheese to represent the nation than American cheese. I'm not even sure American cheese is cheese. I think it's aged Jell-O. And it doesn't need to be individually wrapped in plastic, either. You're thinking of condoms.

Never throw away food when you have the poor near you, remember that you are an ambassador of god on earth

No bacon for you." "Then no eggs for you. Either of you." Eve glowered at him. "Prisoner exchange?" They glared at each other, then swapped pans and started scooping.

Nine balls of julienned vegetables sit above a dense chicken vinaigrette. The plate looks like a game of noughts and crosses (tic-tac-toe). The table is bathed in a cloud of chicken vapour with a few sprays of eau-de-cologne of roasted chicken. In this way the chicken is everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Nobody will buy a half-cooked food!

Nobody knows the truffles I've seen.

No food is edible, if you don’t feel like eating Standing is incredible, if you hate sitting

No matter our age, everyone in our household knows that cooking and eating together is where the fun is

No man is lonely while eating spaghetti: it requires so much attention.

...no matter how rhapsodic one waxes about the process of wresting edible plants and tamed animals from the sprawling vagaries of nature, there's a timeless, unwavering truth espoused by those who worked the land for ages: no matter how responsible agriculture is, it is essentially about achieving the lesser of evils. To work the land is to change the land, to shape it to benefit one species over another, and thus necessarily to tame what is wild. Our task should be to deliver our blows gently.

None of this Mad Mario showmanship- orange clogs and Bermuda shorts fit for Babar, sweetbreads garnished with squash blossoms stuffed with cheese from the milk of Angora goats who live in the Pyrenees. Litchi sorbet veined with coconut milk and honey from Crete.

No matter where he went in the City, there was an odoriferous mix of food and vehicles, like the alchemic concoctions of some mad gourmet mechanic: Kung Pao Saab Turbo, Buick Skylark Carbonara, Sweet-and-Sour Metro Bus, Honda Bolognese with Burning Clutch Sauce.

not every breakfast needs to be something worthy of posting to a food blog. Sometimes food is simply fuel, something we eat to live. But with TV ads and billboards and in-store displays saying otherwise—in colorful and provocative ways—that can be a hard case to make.

No plaque reminds the passer-by of these glories, although there should be one; for those who invent biscuits bring great pleasure to many.

Not all good things are good for us.

NOTE-Always remove the brown hull from the peanuts even though the recipe does not say so.