My mother was a good recreational cook, but what she basically believed about cooking was that if you worked hard and prospered, someone else would do it for you.
quote by Nora Ephron
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Related quotes
What my mother believed about cooking is that if you worked hard and prospered, someone else would do it for you.
quote by Nora Ephron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cook: A Tribute To Bibhu Padhi
The cook knows
that his shadow
burns in the fire.
Turmeric fragrance drives
hungry crocodiles away
from the greenroom.
While cooking himself
the cook discovers
that each fire has its own inscription.
You know how profound
the fire is, how much
it demands from life.
Cooking is self-cooking,
discovery of fire-roses
getting wiser in the soul of a bird.
poem by Rudra Kinshuk
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Servent Cook
mother
Cook
with love...
father
Cook
With taste...
Brother
Cook...
With enjoy...
sister
Cook
Simply fine...
Servent
Cook
A boor...
A woor...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The secret is to cook the aubergines the day before and let them dry of all the oil they drank in cooking. When you cook aubergine, they eat a lot of oil. It can be very heavy.
quote by Nana Mouskouri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I cook everything. I love Mediterranean cooking, I love Asian cooking. I do lots of Japanese noodles.
I don't like gourmet cooking or ""this"" cooking or ""that"" cooking. I like good cooking.
quote by James Beard
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For All Mothers
any other presence
in the kitchen is a threat
to her empire...
none knows her pots and pans
and the purpose they're for
except herself...
cooking is her forte,
she believes; none can be
as good at it as her
she can't relish what others cook
to her, she is the ultimate!
pain she gulps
smiles she shares
doctor, she never needs
for nothing can touch her
is her belief...
slightest bruise
mildest pain
on others is
what she can't tolerate!
condemned to glorification
trapped in stereotype
motherhood, she is a victim
of utopian motherhood!
ode to one's mother
is ode to every mother
nurtured and reared
on the fact that women
cease to be human
once they're mothers!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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I'd love to learn to cook. I think the ladies like a guy who can cook. Also, there are lots of available ladies at cooking classes. Can you tell I'm single?
quote by Will Estes
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Alankar (Decor) -30
Kitchen clash (Double Rondeau)
How difficult it is to cook
In hot summer how a wife to cook
'Take rest, shall buy food from outside'
He says with concern on her side
Wife is happy she need not cook
Happy so life runs like a brook
Variety food, pleased they look
Seasoned hot, they know kitchen's stride
How difficult
Time in hand changed is her outlook
Changed is also her old cook-look
Styleless to stylish in set glide
Makes her new with glow to her pride
She can speak on her strife to cook
How difficult
How difficult but back a cook?
Daughter visits with siren look
There, stirs in dad's heart a high tide
Sneaks'cooking has been set aside
These days mom does not at all cook'
Enough for her to word and hook
Daughter counsels mom back to cook
To be in shifty husband's stride
How difficult!
Luck is but a wheel in life-book
So such a wife can't overlook
And mom vows never to abide
Honeyed words but put them aside
Blamed wife telling herself 'to cook
How difficult! '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Maiden Cook
A young pretty bride, very coy,
Entered her new house with joy;
She was highly educated, quite,
Bereft of the house-hold chores, right.
Next day her dear mother-in-law,
Beckoned her to the kitchen and saw
Her taking charge of the cooking.
The girl was aghast at the booking!
However, she made up her mind to cook,
And thought she'd take the cook book;
The menu for lunch was given,
As per the book she was driven.
Every often she ran to her mother-in-law,
And took her advice too, for she was raw.
On the dining table the fare was laid,
To partake, the other members she bade.
One by one, the items were tasted,
In appreciation, their heads nodded;
When they came to the greens to taste,
One, in a hurry got up and ran in haste,
One to the sink went to vomit,
The other took off his hands to wash it!
The girl was in a fix, with great worry,
As the mother-in-law tasted the greens curry!
‘My God'! she spit it out, and cried,
‘What is it you've done, my child'?
‘The greens, did you thoroughly wash, do tell'?
‘Yes, Ma, thrice, I did wash with ‘Surf Excel'!
.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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To All Future Husbands
No matter
How much
I educate
My daughter,
If she's not
A good cook
Nor a good
Whore to you
In bed, you
Wouldn't fancy her.
It's the age of
Equality.
If you want your
Wife to work
And bring in
Money…
Why not ask
Your mothers
To teach you
Some cooking
And cleaning
So you can
Share the
Housework.
Instead of being
Brought up
To think
That no matter,
How much
Your wife
Works…
She'll always be
Up and ready,
To do all the
Serving…
And you, the
Lord of the house,
The most deserving,
Unflurried by the fact
That - to be the lady
Of the house, being
A mother, a wife,
A daughter-in-law,
Is Oh! So! Nerve-wracking,
So very tiring, for a woman
Working…
(Theme: Message)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Eggs For Me
Form into a shell, you are unique,
Break out in time to master reality.
My cooking of eggs makes food worth sharing,
They cook me omelettes next, then hard-boiled eggs.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Gourmet vs the Usual
a good food and a good drink
seven days a week
I wouldn't ask for more
I'll just eat with love and won't get bored
I tried cooking my own food
following mom’s recipe
but it didn’t taste exactly as
when mom’s the one cooking
Oh, I realized
I couldn't buy in the store
an ingredient mom has when cooking a food
I couldn't buy love and patience
in the fresh market or in any grocery
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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The Cooking Pot
our cooking pot is not made of porcelain
or silver or gold but it is made of the mud
of this earth
hardened by time and fire and too much
waiting
our patience consumed
our waiting had been too long about this cooking
pot, earthen
where we put all our dreams and cook them
like rice
porridge, all of our dreams
fired by the woods of our reminiscence
our longings our loneliness our daily concerns
our future wishes
and then when the time comes to open
and see and smell what rice porridge is
we say we like it we say we love it
only to be repulsed by this visitor in the house
'this is not cooking! This is not good! ' and he stares at us
and says, we need more fire, more wood, more time
to have the perfect porridge
i went out unable to stand this hunger
unable to see what this visitor says
it is our fault we allowed him in
we open our doors and windows and let him sleep in our room
as we lay on the floors and keep ourselves on the stairs.
'this is too much' i said.
'he must leave this house at once' i told you.
this is our pot. this is our porridge. this is our cooking.
and we must eat. we must love what we have.
'get out of my house' i said.
and then i am relieved from an opression.
i am happier now. My pot is earthen. Its bottom is sooty black.
i am blue. And i do not really mind.
This is my porridge. You may take it, if you like.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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And one thing that I always believed and that I knew for certain was that I could never have sustained a personal relationship while I worked this hard, or while I was that driven this intensely by the story.
quote by Christiane Amanpour
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I don't cook - I can cook - but I'm not very good. I like being asked over for dinner, because she can't cook either. We would starve if it weren't for modern technology. I know how to work a microwave, but love home cooked meals.
quote by Mark Mothersbaugh
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America has believed that in differentiation, not in uniformity, lies the path of progress. It acted on this belief; it has advanced human happiness, and it has prospered.
quote by Louis D. Brandeis
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America has believed that in differentiation, not in uniformity, lies the path of progress. It acted on this belief it has advanced human happiness, and it has prospered.
quote by Louis D. Brandeis
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If...
If ev'ryone believed in adulthood,
We would not behave like impish children.
If ev'ryone believed in something good,
Perhaps our evils would never happen.
If ev'ryone believed in honesty,
Thoughts would not require representation.
If ev'ryone believed in identity,
Each person would not crave affirmation.
If ev'ryone believed in truthfulness,
We would not follow laws of hypocrites.
If ev'ryone believed in wanting less,
Maybe we could learn to want what we get.
If ev'ryone believed in how they feel,
What is imagination would be real.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Well, I am very happy that I was able to play a part in bringing music from the streets onto the radio and into modern culture, I worked very hard and always believed in the sounds I was creating.