Cookbook Funny Quotes

(About a cookbook...) - What about this one? Maids of Honor? - Weeelll, they starts OUT as Maids of Honor...but they ends up Tarts.

That's the trouble with cookbooks. Like sex education and nuclear physics, they are founded on an illusion. They bespeak order, but they end in tears.

You are more likely to find three TVs inside a randomly selected house than you are to find a single book that is or was not read to pass an exam, to please God, or to be a better cook.

Megan was able to get me the single most important item in this entire house." "She got you that new vibrator?" "Jesus..." "Oh, the cookbook, right," he said, remembering. Megan used to work for the Food Network, and was able to secure me a signed copy of the original Barefoot Contessa cookbook.

I suspect he put the table in storage, along with the one nightstand he insisted was rightfully his and all of our cookbooks. I don’t miss the cookbooks. I don’t cook.

Food is culture. Food is history. Food is fun.

Foreword As a true blue Southern girl I have often wondered…if preppies could have their own handbook…why not us? And now at last, my two good friends Deborah Ford and Edie Hand have written the definitive handbook for Southern gals raised in the South. One must simply not leave home without it! It deserves a place on your shelf between Gone With the Wind and the Memphis Junior League cookbook, and I predict in years to come it will be passed down to daughters along with the family silver and great-grandmother’s lace doilies. It is funny, wise, charming, and smart, just like the two gals who wrote it. As modern Southern women we have learned to network with one another and share all the good advice and recipes and rules of accepted behavior that have been handed down to us (it’s a rough world out there). And so in keeping with that wonderful tradition I would like to share some advice my own wise Southern mother gave to me. When I was in high school contemplating whether to take Home Economics or not, my mother exclaimed: “Oh no, darling…you must never learn to cook and clean or they will expect you to do it!” It is advice that has served me well throughout the years. Good luck in all you do! -Fannie Flagg

She had no idea how George delighted in her funny ways, or watched her through the window as she stood outside, finishing an apple or nibbling sunflower seeds. She did not register his glances, his quick inventory of her clothes, his pleasure in her face and wrists. She did not know his heart.

In Delirio Familiari by Stewart Stafford He devoured radioactive pizza, eyes bulging to breaking point. Every riddle imploded in a flash, daymare fission without a joint. He, the man of conjured letters; she, his spark that moderates. Janus creature, clockface duo, oddballs, but fitting mates. With dollops of ambrosial agony, in frenzied closeness, but witty, The Brain Surgeon’s Cookbook, A bromide concoction served as ditty. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

I love archaic words, so I love "receipt." Did you know that "receipt" comes from the days when you wouldn't take a cookbook out of your library to the kitchen, because books were precious, and it might get ruined in there, what with the fire and grease and whatnot. Instead, you copied down a "receipt" of the instructions and took that piece of paper to the kitchen.