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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.
M. F. K. Fisher
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M. F. K. Fisher
Age: 83 †
Born: 1908
Born: July 3
Died: 1992
Died: June 22
Author
Diarist
Memoirist
Screenwriter
Writer
Albion
Michigan
M.F.K. Fisher
Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher
Never
Taste
Characteristic
Blob
Like
Sweet
Pale
Muffin
Food
Yellow
Mushroom
Rather
Characteristics
Muffins
Else
Pushing
Faintly
Light
Paris
Baking
Kind
Anywhere
Mushrooms
Good
Ground
Eaten
Crookedly
More quotes by M. F. K. Fisher
... living out of sight of any shore does rich and powerfully strange things to humans.
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Talleyrand said that two things are essential in life: to give good dinners and to keep on fair terms with women. As the years pass and fires cool, it can become unimportant to stay always on fair terms either with women or one's fellows, but a wide and sensitive appreciation of fine flavours can still abide with us, to warm our hearts.
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For anyone addicted to reading commonplace books . . . finding a good new one is much like enduring a familiar recurrence of malaria, with fever, fits of shaking, strange dreams . . . .
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I notice that as I get rid of the protective covering of the middle years, I am more openly amused and incautious and less careful socially, and that all this makes for increasingly pleasant contacts with the world.
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But if I must be alone, I refuse to be alone as if it were something weak and distasteful, like convalescence.
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Write one good clean sentence and put a period at the end of it. Then write another one.
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Good wine, well drunk, can lend majesty to the human spirit.
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. . . word-sniffing . . . is an addiction, like glue -- or snow -- sniffing in a somewhat less destructive way, physically if not economically. . . . As an addict, I am almost guiltily interested in converts to my own illness . . .
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death ... so seldom happens nowadays in the awesome quiet of a familiar chamber. Most of us die violently, thanks to the advance of science and warfare. If by chance we are meant to end life in our beds, we are whisked like pox victims to the nearest hospital, where we are kept as alone and unaware as possible of the approach of disintegration.
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Too few of us, perhaps, feel that breaking of bread, the sharing of salt, the common dipping into one bowl, mean more than satisfaction of a need. We make such primal things as casual as tunes heard over a radio, forgetting the mystery and strength in both.
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It is easy to think of potatoes, and fortunately for men who have not much money it is easy to think of them with a certain safety. Potatoes are one of the last things to disappear, in times of war, which is probably why they should not be forgotten in times of peace.
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Most bereaved souls crave nourishment more tangible than prayers: they want a steak.
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[Bachelors'] approach to gastronomy is basically sexual, since few of them under seventy-nine will bother to produce a good meal unless it is for a pretty woman.
M. F. K. Fisher
Salad is roughage and a French idea.
M. F. K. Fisher
One martini is just right. Two martinis are too many. Three martinis are never enough.
M. F. K. Fisher
old age is more bearable if it can be helped by an early acceptance of being loved and of loving.
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In general, I think, human beings are happiest at table when they are very young, very much in love or very alone.
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In America we eat, collectively, with a glum urge for food to fill us. We are ignorant of flavour. We are as a nation taste-blind.
M. F. K. Fisher
... most bereaved souls crave nourishment more tangible than prayers: they want a steak. What is more, they need a steak. Preferably they need it rare, grilled, heavily salted, for that way it is most easily digested, and most quickly turned into the glandular whip their tired adrenals cry for.
M. F. K. Fisher
At present, I myself do not know of any local witches or warlocks, but there are several people who seem to have an uncanny power over food.
M. F. K. Fisher