Bakery Christmas Quotes

She could see Albert standing at the door, hiding the bakery box behind him with his mischievous smile. When he revealed them, she had hugged him tight. The landlady had brought some expresso and the newlywed Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs had enjoyed their cheesecake tarts in front of the little fireplace with fine Italian coffee. Even so long after Albert’s death, remembering that scene still brought her comfort.

Because the thing was, she guessed, you always thought you had time—time to fix the relationships that had broken down; to do all the things you thought you’d get around to; to finish everything, tie it up with a neat bow and that was it. But life wasn’t like that at all.

Don’t go all caveman on me now, Colton. I don’t do well with stupid.

galette des rois. We have found through trial and error it is usually prudent to push the fève piece toward the youngest person in the room. If you can’t lay your hand on some fèves, a coin wrapped in greaseproof paper should have the same cheerful effect in warding off the post-chrimbo blues. 1 roll ready-made puff pastry, unless you are a fantastic pastry nut (I worship you) 1 egg, beaten 2 tbsp. jam 100g soft butter 100g caster sugar (superfine sugar) 100g ground almonds 1 tbsp. brandy Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Divide the ready-made puff pastry in half, and roll out each piece into two circles. Put one of the circles on a baking sheet and spread with the jam. Whisk the butter and sugar until fluffy. Beat in most of the egg. Stir in the almonds, brandy, and add the fève. Spread the mix on top of the jam, then cover with the second piece of pastry. Seal up with a pinch. You can decorate the top of the galette with a fork if you like. Bake for 25 minutes or until crisp and golden. Serve warm or cold.

Lillian lifted the cake pans from the oven and rested them on metal racks on the counter. The layers rose level and smooth from the pans; the scent, tinged with vanilla, traveled across the room in soft, heavy waves, filling the space with whispers of other kitchens, other loves. The students food themselves leaning forward in their chairs to greet the smells and the memories that came with them. Breakfast cake baking on a snow day off from school, all the world on holiday. The sound of cookie sheets clanging against the metal oven racks. The bakery that was the reason to get up on cold, dark mornings; a croissant placed warm in a young woman's hand on her way to the job she never meant to have. Christmas, Valentine's, birthdays, flowing together, one cake after another, lit by eyes bright with love.

I want to have a case of breads over there- whole wheat, rye- and English muffins, and cranberry-nut, blueberry-lemon, and white chocolate raspberry muffins over there. I want a table in the middle filled with nothing but cookies- the dark-chocolate-walnut-toffee ones, coconut macaroons, peanut butter drops with the little Hershey's Kisses in the middle, and sugar cookies. And then on the left, I'm thinking pies: apple, peach, and cherry daily, and maybe chocolate cream espresso for special occasions. Plus, I want to have a wall for all different kinds of specials. Maybe a certain bread- like Irish soda bread for St. Patrick's Day, fruitcake for Christmas, or challah bread for Passover- whatever.

Mabel was well over a foot shorter than Jay. At the bakery Christmas party, she'd glanced with loathing at the limbo pole, walked straight underneath it, and headed for the bar. She still managed to look down her nose at him now. "Valuable life lesson. If you feel comfortable shoveling handfuls of stolen sweets into your pockets, I might feel comfortable shoveling you headfirst into a pipe." Jay raised his brows at Sylvie. "Have we considered moving Mabel's workstation so she's slightly farther away from the paying customers? Perhaps about"---he made a pinching motion with his finger and thumb--- "two post codes to the left?" "Have we considered getting a haircut, so we look slightly less like an aging rockstar?" Mabel asked conversationally. "It's swell of you to take over potions class while Sylvie's back on telly, Axl Rose, but you don't have to go full wizard cosplay.

I love you, Cleo.” Saying the words loosened something in my chest. Something that I’d been holding in for far too long. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I walked into the bakery and spotted you, covered in flour and blueberry stains on your fingers.

Brynne had worked at my bakery for three years. She was an incredibly talented pastry chef as well as a wonderful friend.

"For crushing your foot, please let me buy your drink." "That's not necessary, I'm buying for me and my friends." She pointed to a nearby table where three women laughed. "All the more reason for me to insist. Then you and your friends can talk about what a gentleman I am." "How can I refuse? Four hot chocolates, please." "Put it on my tab, Mr. Yu." Mr. Yu smiled at him. "Sure, Jack." The Julemarked residents didn't keep track of such things, but Jack was happy to take the credit. "Your tab?" the woman asked. "You work here?" "In the bakery, with my brothers." Jack pointed to Kringle All the Way. "You should stop in when you're ready for something sweet." "Brothers in a bakery? That's a romance series waiting to happen. I wouldn't be able to keep those books on the shelf." "Do you work in a bookstore?" "Better. I'm a librarian."

Life wasn’t butter icing. You couldn’t just spread it over the cracks of the cake and make it look pretty and hope nobody would be any the wiser.

enclosed porch facing

I love you, Cleo.” Saying the words loosened something in my chest. Something that I’d been holding in for far too long. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I walked into the bakery and spotted you, covered in flour and blueberry stains on your fingers.” “But that was . . .” Her forehead furrowed. The beginning. I’d been in love with her from the beginning. “All this time?

Then go for it. You get one life, so go out, take chances, make mistakes, fall in love, get your heart broken and then fall in love all over again. There’s no point in half measures, and I can say that with a great deal of authority.

I will say that a lot of times the one wearing the mask of a peacemaker is sometimes worse than the asshole who shows you all. I promise you if it was because of my power that something will come out.

That was his one rule, and I would make any after me promise as well. He had enough sins, and he couldn’t be the reason other sins were committed.” “Noble.

Well, miracles happened, and people would just have to chalk it up to that.

I didn’t think I wanted to know the answer. I’d seen enough darkness in people’s hearts to last me all my lifetimes.

We dress pretty or work on ourselves because we deserve it. It’s not for men. Remember that.

Christmas. I hated that holiday—all Christian ones even—and this was the first time I’d not fought against it.

Life is a contradiction, and it’s like this helps me learn to appreciate it instead of struggle against it.

It took almost two hours for the shopping, unloading on the conveyor, and loading it all back up, then into the SUV, and driving it home to unload it and putting it away. How the hell did humans do this all the time? It was exhausting.

Don’t end it with me,” he begged. “I didn’t mean what—I didn’t think it would be an issue.

beef taco,

And yeah, being physically perfect sort of came with being a goddess. I never cared about that but what was inside. Hera was breathtaking and a dark soul, evil seeping out of her always. So which should people care about more?

Maybe, she thought, everyone was only ever two feet from disaster, and it was luck, not fundamental goodness, that made all the difference.

It’s just . . . you know. I’ve been cheated on in the past, and it was so hard. It hurt so much. And I thought I knew you so well, and I panicked. But you can’t . . . you can’t ever know another person. Not through and through. People have their reasons for things. And you can choose to love them for who they are, and, well, that’s the deal. That’s how it is.

And Polly nodded, and thought about the odd counterbalance of weights in the universe—how bad things could happen, and sometimes wonderful, wonderful things could happen, but you weren’t always fated to be in the heart of the story; sometimes it simply wasn’t about you; you didn’t always get all the answers.

Because the thing was, she guessed, you always thought you had time—time to fix the relationships that had broken down; to do all the things you thought you’d get around to; to finish everything, tie it up with a neat bow and that was it. But life wasn’t like that at all. Things festered for years. Things that ought to be gotten over never were. Bitterness became a defining characteristic of people’s lives.