Quotes About Kitchen

I told them I failed my draft physical. My dad, who often dismissively uttered the words "I can't wait 'til the army gets ahold of you," sat at the kitchen table, flicked the ash off of his cigarette, took a puff, slowly let the smoke escape from his lips and mumbled, "That's good.

No one's been in the kitchen since he left it. On the table are his cup, Theo's empty water bottle and, beside it, the remote control. It's stil faintly surprising, this fidelity of objects, sometimes reassuring, sometimes sinister.

I can't believe I have to say this. You there, dashing male secretary! Drop the frying pan.

I'm starving. I haven't had anything to eat since I stole a bear claw from your kitchen this morning. You didn't steal it. All my bear claws are yours.

Aaahh. Home. My place, my smells, my familiar rug under my feet, my kitchen, my Curran in the kitchen chair . . . Wait a damn minute.

Restaurant kitchens are highly pressurised environments, with lots of young men, and that means one thing: testosterone. It's not brutal - it's military. It is regimented, tough. People are put into compartments and have to do exactly what they're told or the whole thing falls apart.

When chefs like Wolfgang Puck became household names, that became a compelling reason for an intelligent young person to go into the cooking profession. There have been no waiters who have turned into household names. The service and hospitality aspects have clearly lagged behind the kitchen.

I think it's really important for every young person to work in a kitchen because you learn a life skill.

My grandpa was a country singer, and I started learning guitar from him, just at the kitchen table when I was younger, and I got really into it.

I always value my large kitchen because it was better to do everything there, you wash up, you do everything, rather than messing up another room and I pop my typewriter just next to it. So I still write now but I was doing more writing when the children were younger.

The trick to scrambled eggs is to remove half the milk from the container and shake what's left as hard as you can, like a cocktail shaker, before you whisk it into the eggs.

My first season of 'MasterChef' was tricky. I took a risk going into TV. I was confident it was the right risk and confident I'd break down barriers as the first female judge - and one that was previously only known for the sweeter side of the kitchen.

I felt like I'd culturally arrived when a character on the HBO show 'True Blood' was reading a hardback of 'Heartsick' at Sookie's kitchen table.

If your husband wants to lick the beaters on the mixer, shut them off before you give them to him.

Always make stock in a large quantity and freeze it in plastic bags. That way, when you want to make a nice soup or boil veggies, you can simply pull the bag out of the freezer.

I spend more time in the kitchen than I have in the dining room, for obvious reasons, however, I just want to sit and indulge.

a frying pan until

What could smell better than supper being cooked by someone else?

The best 'aromatherapy' comes directly from the kitchen.

It's filled with... baking soda. Because it really smells.

They are very different in terms of the solution. Where 'An Inconvenient Truth,' you really need countries to cooperate and sacrifice and figure out a solution, with 'Fed Up' you can leave the theater and you can be empowered that very night by cooking dinner in your very own kitchen.

Families are like pieces of art, they can be made from many materials. Sometimes they are from birth, sometimes they are melded, sometimes they are merely time and circumstance mixing together, like eggs being scrambled in a Michigan kitchen.

While you have been waking up to the aroma of coffee brewing, dressing to the hushed rhythm of other people's labor, I have been in the kitchen since I was six and in your kitchen since six this morning. In my life as a minor domestic, a bit character in your daily dramas, I have prepared thousands of omelets. You have attempted three, each effort wasted, a discarded half-moon with burnt-butter craters, a simple dish that in a stark and economical way separates you and me.

but the rest, I suspected, was the subtler magic of contrast; I didn't imagine Mirnatius showed much courtesy to his servants. "Matas and Vladas," I repeated. "Thank you for your care of my old nanushka, and now let us go inside: you must have a drink of hot krupnik in the kitchen after your long trip.