Quotes from Anthony Capella

God is not a watchmaker. God is a pimp.

A person can't choose where he's born. But he can choose where he spends his life.

Anni, amori e bicchieri di vino, nun se contano mai."' '"Years, lovers and glasses of wine; these things must not be counted.

For a well-made cup of coffee is the proper beginning to an idle day. Its aroma is beguiling, its taste is sweet; yet it leaves behind only bitterness and regret. In that, it resembles, surely, the pleasures of love.

they say you can't really be in love with someone unless they love you too, don't they?

A person can't choose where he's born. But he can choose where he spends his life.

You see, love isn't just something you feel. Love is something you become. It's like - going to a new country, and realizing that you never particularly liked the place you left behind. It's like a sort of tingling and - oh, I don't know - when she smiles I just want to start clapping or something.

God is not a watchmaker. God is a pimp.

If you want to make someone cry, " Bruno said slowly, "you give them an onion to chop. But if you want them to feel sad, you cook them the dish their mother used to cook for them when they were small...

People were often good, and did good things, such as the things that had been done to help after Vesuvius erupted, but as soon as those same people were given any authority or power, they abused it, or ignored the human consequences of their actions. And the people who ended up suffering most were always the women, because they had no authority or power

It was as soft as a poached egg and, when he punctured it, oozed what appeared to be ivory-colored cream. He tried some. Richness flooded his mouth. The taste was fresh, almost like chewing grass, but filling and slightly sweet.

I think you're failing to focus on the big picture." "It's only when one focuses on the small picture," James said, "that the full horror of this scheme becomes apparent.

A whole fresh tuna, a wicker basket of San Marzano tomatoes, a crate of anchovies, great handfuls of parsley... Dozens of new potatoes, still encrusted with the black volcanic earth of Campania, their flesh golden as egg yolks... A pale wheel of parmesan, big as a truck tire... A sack full of blooded watermelons... An armful of mint, its leaves so dark green they were almost black...

The dolce itself, after so much rich food, was to be a straightforward one---the ricotta, with honey and a sprinkling of cinnamon, and a glass of vin santo , sweet white wine, into which would be dipped tozzetti , handmade hazelnut biscotti.

There was something about her voice that made Bruno think of dolci , of meringues and sweet zabaglione, and peaches bubbling as they poached in wine.

Eels from the Tiber are a traditional Roman delicacy, pan-cooked with soft onions, garlic, chiles, tomatoes, and white wine, but a much more common dish is baccalà , preserved salt-cured cod, which is fried in thin strips, then simmered in a tomato sauce flavored with anchovies, pine nuts, and raisins. For really good fresh fish, you are better off heading either up or down the coast, toward Civitavecchia to the north or Gaeta to the south.

Ices, like revenge, are best served cold; but like revenge, too much cold will blunt the taste.

For sheer showmanship, it is hard to beat the creation of a really flashy dessert. Without asking Benedetta's permission, Bruno assembled his ingredients. Eggs. Sugar. Cream. Pastry. A large dish of black currants and other fruits from the garden. First he spun sugar into delicate lattice bowls of crisp brown caramel. Then he made meringues, inside which he placed individual baked peaches. Where the peach stone had been, he inserted a berry gelato , made with pieces of solid fruit.

She comes downstairs and is surprised to be handed a curious-looking bouquet. Only on closer inspection does it become apparent that this is, in fact, a bunch made up of candied flowers---pale orange blossoms, bright blue florets of borage, even tender young rosebuds, all encased in hard, clear shells of sugar, like tiny caramel apples.

Anni, amori e bicchieri di vino, nun se contano mai