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Reckoning Baking quotations

Sometime in your life, hope that you might see one starved man, the look on his face when the bread finally arrives. Hope that you might have baked it or bought or even kneaded it yourself. For that look on his face, for your meeting his eyes across a piece of bread, you might be willing to lose a lot, or suffer a lot, or die a little, even.

I love your sushi roll, hotter than wasabi. I race for your love, Shake-n-Bake, Ricky Bobby

A basic rule of baking is that, in general, it's almost impossible to make an inedible batch of brownies.

If baking is any labor at all, it's a labor of love.

A love that gets passed from generation to generation.

God gives us the ingredients for our daily bread, but he expects us to do the baking!

Baking may be regarded as a science, but it's the chemistry between the ingredients and the cook that gives desserts life. Baking is done out of love, to share with family and friends, to see them smile.

A party without cake is really just a meeting.

Sometimes...we don't want to feel like a postmodern, postfeminist, overstretched woman but, rather, a domestic goddess, trailing nutmeggy fumes of baking pie in our languorous wake.

I love kale. I bake it. I sauté it. I juice it. I massage it. I want other people to join the cult-of- kale.

The biggest challenge of being a pastry chef is that, unlike other types of chefs, you can't throw things together at a farmer's market. When you're working with baking powder and a formula, you have to be exact. If not, things can go wrong.

My idea of heaven is a great big baked potato and someone to share it with.

Salt is born of the purest parents: the sun and the sea.

But of course you can have your cake and eat it, too - if you decide to to bake a second cake. And you may well find that baking two cakes does not take twice the work of baking one.

Without wishing in the slightest degree to disparage the skill and labour of breadmakers by trade, truth compels us to assert our conviction of the superior wholesomeness of bread made in our own homes.

If your version of pub food is microwaving a pie and some baked beans, then yeah, it's really complicated cooking. But if it's just about getting the best out of simple ingredients, then it's not.

A bad review is like baking a cake with all the best ingredients and having someone sit on it.

Baking makes me focus. On weighing the sugar. On sieving the flour. I find it calming and rewarding because, in fairness, it is sort of magic - you start off with all this disparate stuff, such as butter and eggs, and what you end up with is so totally different. And also delicious.

Happiness is baking cookies. Happiness is giving them away. And serving them, and eating them, talking about them, reading and writing about them, thinking about them, and sharing them with you.

To get a roaster clean, send something like baked apples in it to a neighbor.

Neighbors always return pans spotless, and you won't have to use a blow torch on it like you usually do.

When I cannot write a poem, I bake biscuits and feel just as pleased.

The qualities that make Twitter seem inane and half-baked are what makes it so powerful.

The measuring and mixing always smoothed out her thinking processes - nothing was as calming as creaming butter - and when the kitchen was warm from the oven overheating and the smell of baking chocolate, she took final stock of where she'd been and where she was going. Everything was fine.

Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough but not baked in the same oven.

Literature is a cake with many toys baked inside--and even if you find them all, if you don't enjoy the path that leads you to them, it will be a hollow accomplishment.

Most recently, I learned another hobby: baking.

It's so much fun to mix all the ingredients and to see the cake come out nice. It's so rewarding when the cake comes out great and tastes great.

Cupcakes are the tattooed brunette chick of the baked goods world.

Ads are baked into content like chocolate chips into a cookie.

Except, it’s actually more like raisins into a cookie - because nobody f-‍-‍-ing wants them there.

As we say in Berlin, there are many ways to bake a parrot.

Cake baking has to be, however innocently, one of the great culinary scams: it implies effort, it implies domestic prowess; but believe me, it's easy.

Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking.

There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.

Kids are without a doubt the most suspicious diners in the world.

They will eat mud (raw or baked) rocks, paste, crayons, ball-point pens, moving goldfish, cigarette butts, and cat food. Try to coax a little beef stew into their mouths and they look at you like a puppy when you stand over him with the Sunday paper rolled up.

It would be as wise to set up an accomplished lawyer to saw wood as a business as to condemn an educated and sensible woman to spend all her time boiling potatoes and patching old garments. Yet this is the lot of many a one who incessantly stitches and boils and bakes, compelled to thrust back out of sight the aspirations which fill her soul.

Truth is undoubtedly the sort of error that cannot be refuted because it was hardened into an unalterable form in the long baking process of history

My once-keen analytical mind has become so dulled by endless hours of baking in the hot sun, thrashing about in tight chimneys, pulling at impossibly heavy loads, freezing my ass off.... so that now my mental state is comparable to that of a Peruvian Indian, well stoked on coca leaves.

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