The Golden Spoon Quotes

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The Golden Spoon The Golden Spoon by Jessa Maxwell
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The Golden Spoon Quotes Showing 1-30 of 57
“Baking, very much like life, is about formulating the best possible outcome with the variables you are given.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“They always tell you that you have to be enough for yourself before you can heal, and I respectfully disagree. I, by myself, was not enough. I think you need others to even be able to see yourself fully. The best way to find the value in yourself is by being good to someone else. There, you find your purpose, and that is the sweetest thing I have ever tasted.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Back when I was young, I remember thinking older people were practically a different species. Now I realize we are always the same inside, it’s just the packaging that changes.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“What is baking, I remind myself, other than a way to show others you care about them.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Bake Week is a special kind of entertainment. It’s not just a show for bakers, though obviously that is the main activity. It is something else too, an escape of sorts, a glimpse into a simpler way of being where people are kind to one another and sugar isn’t thought of as junk food, but as something special to be shared and cherished. Where you can say “I love you” with a slice of cake.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“I love these Victorian houses - with all their quirks they feel almost human to me, like they could be old friends. More than anything I relish learning all their stories, uncovering their pasts.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“The best way to find the value in yourself is by being good to someone else. There, you find your purpose,”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Sometimes we must do what we can to keep our mistakes a secret, don't we?”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“This is an herb boule." I gesture to the oven where my dough is still proving.
"Can we see it to get a quick shot?" Archie asks. I hesitate but slide the drawer open for just a moment, releasing a warm yeasty plume into the air, and then quickly slide it shut. It leaves behind the fragrance of parsley, cilantro, and basil, some of the herbs I've mixed into my boule.
"And these are my cinnamon buns. I've used my own hand-ground rye flour to balance the sweetness and specially sourced Vietnamese cinnamon and just a touch of cardamom.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“I've covered the bottom of the tray with a red-checked picnic cloth and decorated the space around each pie with a scattering of cut daisies, tiny, gemlike strawberries, little twigs, and green ferns unfurling from their buds, all things that I've collected from around the grounds.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“I get straight to work preparing my yeast, mixing it with a splash of milk and warming it in a pan as an image of a Swedish cardamom twist comes into my head. With its elaborate plaiting, it's like a cinnamon roll but more complex. I love a bread tied in knots. I'll make mine savory. That will be interesting. I turn off the burner and rush to my designated sage-green refrigerator on the side of the tent. It's stocked to the brim, stuffed full of fresh produce, exotic fruits, and dairy from local farms. I get to work, sorting through my options. What is this? Spring onion? No, chives. That'll be perfect. I'll dice them and mix them with olive oil, so they crisp up in the cracks of the bread, along with some mature cheddar. I dig deeper in the dairy compartment and find a log of expensive goat cheese. Even better! Then I'll add a ton of fresh-ground black pepper and top with some flaky sea salt. My mouth is already watering. Pair a few of these freshly baked buns with a crisp, mineral white and aperitvo is served!”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Behind me, my room at Grafton is a gorgeous garden paradise in hues of green. The wallpaper is printed with a grid of vines that climbs up to the crown molding. My bed's canopy is stretched with a deep emerald damask that makes me feel like I'm in an enchanted garden. Beyond the window is even more green, a long lawn bordered by thick woods and farther off, Vermont's rolling mountains on the horizon. It's more nature than I've seen in years. The view from my Brooklyn apartment has one tree and a few pigeons. This is something else entirely. The word that springs to mind is majestic.
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“After all that practicing, so many years of my life devoted to cakes and pies and tarts. So much time spent on fondants and days upon days of piping icing onto sheets of torn cardboard, until every line, every green frosted petal and sugary pink rosebud is just perfect.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Recipes are like architecture; a combination of tested methods with personal elements is what makes a bake memorable.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“It's an optimistic scene of pastel colors and light woods. One that lends itself well to the show's folksy niceness.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“dinner.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“As I zest a lemon, I replay memories of my mother. It is a common exercise of mine whenever I have a spare moment to think of the times I've spent with her, to recall what she said, what she was wearing, the smells in the air. I do it hoping the repetition will preserve them for me, to keep her alive in what small ways I can.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“My life has always been a series of goals. I may grow bored with them all eventually, but the beginning is always sustaining enough to keep me going, keep me moving. This is all just something to do to fill in the time and to keep the feeling at bay. But I worry it is returning anyway, seeping through the cracks. I fear the gnawing nothingness that will overtake me if I let it.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“My chocolate strawberry chiffon pie was a hit not to be missed: a chocolate crust filled with a pink strawberry custard studded with bits of fresh strawberry. I will make it again and this time I'll decorate it with sugared basil leaves and strawberry hearts. For my savory pie, I'm making a mixed mushroom filling with fresh herbs and taleggio, encased in a double crust that is studded with fresh rosemary and thyme. To decorate it, I've cut out of rolled an intricate forest scene and affixed it to the top crust with a wash of egg white.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“You must know how to lose, and to learn when you lose, he'd always told her. It's the only way you can come back to win.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“They are all unique and lovingly constructed. There's one for a chocolate ganache tart striped with hazelnut and praline, a honey cake with orange marmalade filling, coconut cream-filled doughnuts with meringues in the center.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“It will be flavored with honey and orange zest. And I'm planning a sculptural element that I hope Betsy will love." I avoid making eye contact with Archie, working on pouring my batter into a variety of cake pans.
"It sounds gorgeous," he says, smiling. I look away.
"Hard to resist a pretty thing, isn't it?”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Stella is next up. Her cake is striking to look at, stacked in graduated tiers, so that it almost resembles half of a bee's nest. It's lightly frosted in that naked style, the icing scraped away to reveal the edges of the sponge, cooked to perfection. A honey-colored glaze drips attractively down the sides, and small fondant bees with almond silver wings cling to the tops of the cakes; a few are even hovering on wire to look like they are flying.
"I must say I've never seen a cake shaped like this. What are the flavors?" Betsy asks, and Stella beams.
"It's flavored with orange zest and honey.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Lottie's cake is last. This one is layered three deep, impressive for a moist, snacking-style cake, which normally couldn't be stacked. The bottom layers are bound together by a thick cream cheese icing, while the top is coated with a thick streusel crumble held in place by a circle of decorative piping.
"It's a layered blueberry buckle," Lottie says, looking at Betsy hopefully.
"Now that is another unconventional choice from you," Betsy says, eyeing the streusel topping, an odd choice for a layer cake.
A buckle is a humble sort of cake--- old-fashioned in its simplicity--- that she hasn't seen around in years. Nowadays most prefer a thick layer of icing, buttercream they can decorate, or the scraped edge of a naked cake. Something meant to impress on a table or in a photograph rather than just be eaten at a family dinner or on a picnic. Secretly it's kind of a relief to see such a normal person's cake given its due.
"The decoration is lacking," Betsy tells her flatly, though the completely bare sides show an even sprinkling of blueberries, which is impressive. It can be difficult to keep berries from falling to the bottom of a cake, but these are evenly distributed throughout.
The knife glides into the cake, which has a springy sort of give to it. She cleaves a slice away, leaving a small avalanche of streusel crumbs in its wake. The cake inside is plump and golden, studded with juicy blueberries. Betsy can tell before she even takes a bite that it has been cooked to perfection.
The flavors hit her tongue and bring on a wave of nostalgia so strong that she has to steady herself against the table. It is heavenly, the sweet and sour of the blueberries wrapped in the soft vanilla-y cake. She is instantly transported back in time, back to her childhood. It is unquestionably the best cake of the bunch, simple and satisfying, the kind that if you were to bake it at home would leave you wanting more, taking secret trips to the kitchen to cut another slice.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“But you're going to have to face your fears if you want to put this to rest." I reach out and touch her arm. "You can't carry this back home with you." Her hand, cold and smooth, lands on top of mine.
"How did you get so wise?" She laughs.
"I didn't. I just mimic smart people.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“I think you need others to even be able to see yourself fully. The best way to find the value in yourself is by being good to someone else. There, you find your purpose, and that is the sweetest thing I have ever tasted.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“In front of me a grand staircase rises like a mahogany waterfall, curving elegantly up in either direction at the landing.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Oh, Lottie, how do we ever know if what we are doing is the right thing? If we are helping things or just making a big mess?” I ponder this. “I guess we don’t. We have to trust that if we are going the wrong way, something deep inside us will tell us. We have to train ourselves to listen for that inner voice shouting for us to turn around.” Stella”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“I am struck again by how fragile she seems, how vulnerable. There are so many people in this world in desperate need of a mother.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon
“Even though I’ve seen it on TV a million times, I feel my chest seize up. It is even more impressive in person, the pale gray stone with all those giant windows and chimneys. It looks like something out of Harry Potter.”
Jessa Maxwell, The Golden Spoon

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