Big Appetite Quotes

“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

“A different serving boy came out with a basket of steaming hot bread and, in the Gaulic fashion, little tubs of sweet butter. Eric preferred olive oil, but along with all the other terrible things going on in the castle, Vanessa had embraced Gaulic culture with the tacky enthusiasm of a true nouveau riche.
"I do so love baguettes, my dear, sweet, Mad Prince. Don't you?" she said with a sigh, picking up a piece and buttering it carefully. "You know, we don't have them where I come from."
"Really? Where you come from? What country on Earth doesn't have some form of bread? Tell me. Please, I'd like to know."
"Well, we don't have a grand tradition of baking, in general," she said, opening her mouth wider and wider. Then, all the while looking directly at Eric, she carefully pushed the entire slice in. She chewed, forcefully, largely, and expressively. He could see whole lumps of bread being pushed around her mouth and up against her cheeks.
The prince threw his own baguette back down on the plate in disgust.
She grinned, mouth still working.
"Your appetite is healthy, despite your cold," he growled. "Healthy for a longshoreman. Where do you put it all? You never- seem- to- gain- a -pound."
"Running the castle keeps one trim," she answered modestly.”
― Liz Braswell, Part of Your World

“Do you really have tentacles?" he asked flatly.
"Yes," she said wistfully, through her full mouth. "Really nice ones, too. Long and black. I miss them."
The serving boy came in and pretended not to notice the exasperated, obviously not eating prince, and the princess who had to keep chewing ponderously because of the amount of food she still had in her cheek pockets. Off a silver platter the boy took two paper cones- Bretland style, of course- filled with perfectly deep-fried baby squid gleaming in a crispy golden batter. After carefully setting one down in front of each of them, the boy immediately withdrew, trying not to look over his shoulder. The mood in the room was palpably icy.
Vanessa looked at the cone with delight, and the moment she swallowed the bread- another large, loud, disgusting gesture that showed the bolus going down her throat in an Adam's apple-y lump- she picked up a squid with her fingers and popped it into her mouth.”
― Liz Braswell, Part of Your World

“He said rich fare might be difficult for you to manage."
Keir snorted at the thought. "Difficult for an Englishman, maybe. But I'm after having for a full Scottish breakfast."
Her dark eyes twinkled. "What does that consist of?"
Unfolding his arms, he settled back against the pillows with a nostalgic sigh. "Bacon, sausage patties, ham, fried eggs, beans, potatoes, scones... and maybe a bit of sweet, like clootie pudding."
Her brows lifted. "All that on one plate?"
"You have to build a mountain of the meat," he explained, "and arrange the rest around it.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“I love this place already," Max says as he gazes at the flying saucer not op of the blue-and-coral-pink building that is South Beach Fish Market.
The hole-in-the-wall seafood joint is quirky for sure with the random artwork and sculptures all over the exterior. Giant cartoon renderings of fish and crustaceans in vivid colors adorn the outside, while the roof boasts a silver flying saucer and a lighthouse.
"Wait until you taste the food," I say.
It's a long wait in line, but I know once we get our meals and find a spot to sit down at one of the outdoor picnic tables, it'll be worth it.
As we sit down, I savor the clear summer weather with the sun shining bright above us, offering warmth against the brisk coastal breeze. When the aroma of spices, lemon, and batter hits my nose, my stomach roars. I inhale my fish and chips before Max is even halfway done with his oysters and halibut.
"Damn," he says around a mouthful of food. "Sometimes I forget how monstrous your appetite is. I would have never guessed given your size. But every time I watch you eat, I'm reminded all over again."
I dig into my clam chowder. "Food is my life. I am not ashamed of it.”
― Sarah Echavarre Smith, The Boy With the Bookstore

“I love this place already," Max says as he gazes at the flying saucer on top of the blue-and-coral-pink building that is South Beach Fish Market.
The hole-in-the-wall seafood joint is quirky for sure with the random artwork and sculptures all over the exterior. Giant cartoon renderings of fish and crustaceans in vivid colors adorn the outside, while the roof boasts a silver flying saucer and a lighthouse.
"Wait until you taste the food," I say.
It's a long wait in line, but I know once we get our meals and find a spot to sit down at one of the outdoor picnic tables, it'll be worth it.
As we sit down, I savor the clear summer weather with the sun shining bright above us, offering warmth against the brisk coastal breeze. When the aroma of spices, lemon, and batter hits my nose, my stomach roars. I inhale my fish and chips before Max is even halfway done with his oysters and halibut.
"Damn," he says around a mouthful of food. "Sometimes I forget how monstrous your appetite is. I would have never guessed given your size. But every time I watch you eat, I'm reminded all over again."
I dig into my clam chowder. "Food is my life. I am not ashamed of it.”
― Sarah Echavarre Smith, The Boy With the Bookstore

“While the poor devours food, the rich toys with it.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Night of a Thousand Thoughts