Fries Quotes

Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoe said. "We should eat while we can." Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?" Zoe blinked. "Yes. What is funny?" "Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam french fries." Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom." ... I started cracking up, and Thalia and Grover joined in, while Zoe just looked at me. "I do not understand." "I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said. "And..." Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam t-shirt.

Am I tough? Am I strong? Am I hard-core? Absolutely. Did I whimper with pathetic delight when I sank my teeth into my hot fried-chicken sandwich? You betcha.

Fang: “Let them blow up the world, and global-warm it, and pollute it. You and me and the others will be holed up somewhere, safe. We’ll come back out when they’re all gone, done playing their games of world domination." Max: “That’s a great plan. Of course, by then we won’t be able to go outside because we’ll get fried by the lack of the ozone layer. We’ll be living at the bottom of the food chain because everything with flavor will be full of mercury or radiation or something! And there won’t be any TV or cable because all the people will be dead! So our only entertainment will be Gazzy singing the constipation song! And there won’t be amusement parks and museums and zoos and libraries and cute shoes! We’ll be like cavemen, trying to weave clothes out of plant fibers. We’ll have nothing! Nothing! All because you and the kids want to kick back in a La-Z-Boy during the most important time in history!” Fang: “So maybe we should sign you up for a weaving class. Get a jump start on all those plant fibers.” Max: "I HATE YOU!!!" Fang: "NO YOU DOOOOOON'T!!" Voice: "You two are crazy about each other.

I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list. Like for example, I'm still beyond obsessed with the winter season and I still start putting up strings of lights in September. I still love sparkles and grocery shopping and really old cats that are only nice to you half the time. I still love writing in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I've fallen in love with -- mismatched everything. Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors, mismatched personalities. I love spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I'd get a chance to win a Grammy. Or something crazy and out of reach like that. ;) I love old buildings with the paint chipping off the walls and my dad's stories about college. I love the freedom of living alone, but I also love things that make me feel seven again. Back then naivety was the norm and skepticism was a foreign language, and I just think every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your mom. I love picking up a cookbook and closing my eyes and opening it to a random page, then attempting to make that recipe. I've loved my fans from the very first day, but they've said things and done things recently that make me feel like they're my friends -- more now than ever before. I'll never go a day without thinking about our memories together.

It's the side dish that pulls everything together. Thousand-layer potatoes fried in duck fat? Phenomenal. Potato chips and caviar? Perfection. Thrice-fried fries with curry mayo? Life-changing. Poutine with cheese curds and gravy? Delectable. Mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving? Irrefutably the best part of the meal. This is a hill I will die on.

The next dish arrived, a small bowl of morels cooked in brown butter served with maitake mushroom broth, complex and unctuous. The morels were harvested the year before, pickled and preserved, and served with a hand-carved appetizer fork. The concentration of flavor brought images of the woods to her mind, from the mossy forest floor to the tree canopy high above. This dish was followed by marigold flowers fried in an incredibly light tempura and then salted, served with an egg yolk dipping sauce. Then walnut "tofu," surrounded by grilled rose petals, topped with a sunflower seed mole, herbs, and tiny flowers, and a caramelized milk tart stuffed with cheese and thinly sliced black truffles, the flavor nutty and savory. "That's better than sex," Cassie overheard Eamon say from across the table, eyes closed and head back in rapture.

We tasted the Vegetable menu, an exploration through the garden with awe-inspiring presentations of ingredients we so often take for granted. Take, for example, the potato, usually served baked, fried, boiled, steamed. Here they return the potato to its humble beginning, the ground, but in the world of Noma, it arrives in the form of potato soup served in a terracotta pot, topped with a garden of herbs. While potatoes are often a favorite staple of a meal, it was refreshing to be surprised by this dish. It was a hint of what else was to come. Other dishes are crafted from ingredients that are transformed through experimental cooking techniques; onions that are cooked until they resembled lumps of charcoal, with sweet, almost gooey centers, fermented ants that taste of pickled ginger and lemongrass, or plums, dried and fermented until they could easily be confused with cured meat.

In the American transports, the cooks fed the soldiers Spam sandwiches and coffee. On the British LSTs, the men got a fried egg breakfast (swimming in grease) and a tot of rum. Lt. Cmdr. B. T. Whinney (RN), the beachmaster for Gold, was astonished when at 0200 in the officers mess on Empire Arquebus sharply uniformed stewards wearing white gloves proffered menus.

We've got fried cod cakes, salmon salad with trout roe, Swedish shrimp, and liver pâté, because I can never say no to pâté. And a big fat cheeseburger." "Yes!" Cassie cried. "I'm so excited. I can't wait for that cheeseburger," she joked.