I recycle. I have a house in the south of France and I have a small garden. My name is Dujardin - 'from the garden.' I grow carrots, peppers, strawberries, green beans, and things for salads, but there are lots of wild boars all around and they steal the food.
My mind is turning into kind of a fine gelatinous ball of pepper
Mexican food is far more varied than people think. It changes like dialects. I was brought up in Jalisco by the sea on a basic diet - tomatoes, chillis, peppers of every size and rice, which is a Mexican staple. The Pacific coast has a huge array of seafood.
We got married in a fever hotter than a pepper sprout.
The fire and excitement may be gone now that we don't go out there and sing them anymore, but the ring of fire still burns around you and I, keeping our love hotter than a pepper sprout.
Pounding fragrant things - particularly garlic, basil, parsley - is a tremendous antidote to depression. But it applies also to juniper berries, coriander seeds and the grilled fruits of the chilli pepper. Pounding these things produces an alteration in one's being - from sighing with fatigue to inhaling with pleasure. The cheering effects of herbs and alliums cannot be too often reiterated. Virgil's appetite was probably improved equally by pounding garlic as by eating it.
Slinky as a lynx, hot as pepper, cool as rain, dry as smoke. There's considerably more to her than staying sexy at 60.
The only really good vegetable is Tabasco sauce. Put Tabasco sauce in everything. Tabasco sauce is to bachelor cooking what forgiveness is to sin. The next best vegetable is the jalapeno pepper. It has the virtue of turning salads into practical jokes.
This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is - A sort of soup or broth, or brew, Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes, That Greenwich never could outdo; Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffron, Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace; All these you eat at Terre's tavern, In that one dish of Bouillabaisse.
I don't know when pepper mills in a restaurant got to be right behind frankincense and myrrh in prominence. It used to be in a little jar that sat next to the salt on the table and everyone passed it around, sneezed, and it was no big deal.
Even that was all consumed after two days, and the patients had to try to choke down fresh fish, just boiled in water, without salt, pepper or butter; mutton, beef, and potatoes without the faintest seasoning
Embarrassment felt a lot like eating chili peppers. It burned in the back of your throat and there was nothing you could do to make it go away. You just had to take it, suffer from it, until it eased off.
I don't know what rituals my kids will carry into adulthood, whether they'll grow up attached to homemade pizza on Friday nights, or the scent of peppers roasting over a fire, or what. I do know that flavors work their own ways under the skin, into the heart of longing. Where my kids are concerned I find myself hoping for the simplest things: that if someday they crave orchards where their kids can climb into the branches and steal apples, the world will have trees enough with arms to receive them.
Fix yourself something to drink," she said. "I don't have any Mr. Pepper." "You mean Dr. Pepper?" "For the love of God!" She exploded. "People expect everything from a psychic! 'Doctor,' 'mister,' I was close enough. I didn't call it 'Mrs. Salt,' did I?
Sejal had not thought of her home, or of India as a whole, as cool. She was dimly aware, however, of a white Westerner habit of wearing other cultures like T-shirts—the sticker bindis on club kids, sindoor in the hair of an unmarried pop star, Hindi characters inked carelessly on tight tank tops and pale flesh. She knew Americans liked to flash a little Indian or Japanese or African. They were always looking for a little pepper to put in their dish.
Richard exhaled. It was like somebody sprinkling pepper on his wound: Thousands of Biafrans were dead, and this man wanted to know if there was anything new about one dead white man. Richard would write about this, the rule of Western journalism: One hundred dead black people equal to one dead white person.
Cucumber should be well sliced, dressed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out.
The motto of West African cooking is that if the food doesn't set fire to the tablecloth the cook is being stingy with the pepper.
Just in case you get any ideas, know that I’ll be sleeping with a can of Mace in one hand and pepper spray in the other.” - Katie Jorlan's expression turned mocking. “Just in case you get any ideas, know that I’ll be sleeping with a feather in one hand and massage oil in the other.
Lastly, tea--unless one is drinking it in the Russian style--should be drunk WITHOUT SUGAR. I know very well that I am in a minority here. But still, how can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it? It would be equally reasonable to put in pepper or salt. Tea is meant to be bitter, just as beer is meant to be bitter. If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar; you could make a very similar drink by dissolving sugar in plain hot water.
Women? I'm still working on the subject. I haven't finished my studies. I would say I'm so happy that they're around. This is the salt and pepper of life. This is what makes me wake up in the morning - even more than work, really.
Don't get me wrong. I love a Denver omelette as much as the next girl. But I'm curious whether that’s your thing, or if you try to change up the routine depending on the specific woman. You know… like, green pepper because I have green eyes, ham because I’m so funny, and onions for all the tears you’ll shed after I leave.
"Dr. Munro, sir," said he, "I am a walking museum. You could fit what ISN'T the matter with me on to the back of a -- visiting card. If there's any complaint you want to make a special study of, just you come to me, sir, and see what I can do for you. It's not every one that can say that he has had cholera three times, and cured himself by living on red pepper and brandy."
We ran, plowing through another pile of peppers. [No, I didn't pick a peck of them, Sadie - just shut up.]
Humans are so Funny. So much moralising about words while at the same time thinking it perfectly "moral" to pepper-bomb cities full of people to protect them from violence." David Icke - Remember Who You Are
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