Leek Quotes

The road to hell is paved with leeks and potatoes

In Summer there were white and damask roses, and the smell of thyme and musk. In Spring there were green gooseberries and throstles [thrush], and the flowers they call ceninen [daffodils]. And leeks and cabbages also grew in that garden; and between long straight alleys, and apple-trained espaliers, there were beds of strawberries, and mint, and sage.

Poireaux vinaigrette aux grains de caviar.” I did a quick translation. “Leeks and fish eggs in vinegar?” He grinned. “It sounds better in French.” Yeah, but did it taste better?

People remembered. They wept and they grieved. In the spaces between, they were glad that the leeks were doing well this year, envied the bonnet of the neighbor's cousin, relished the fragrance of pork roasting in the kitchen on Sunday. There were those that registered the beauty of a pale moon suspended behind the branches of the elms on the ridge.

Yes. Railrunner, we need to activate your ride form.

Alles wat ik van het leven weet maakte ik me buiten de muren van de school eigen, en zodra ik me binnen die muren bevond leek het of ik achterwaarts leefde.

If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek!

Maar opeens kwam de zon te voorschijn en de nevels trokken op. De vogels in het bos begonnen te zingen en alles wat treurig en naar was verdween als bij toverslag, en het gevaarlijke leek niet zo gevaarlijk meer. Ik werd weer warm. De zonnestralen gaven al warmte. Het was allemaal veel minder erg, ja bijna goed.

But the kitchen will not come into its own again until it ceases to be a status symbol and becomes again a workshop. It may be pastel. It may be ginghamed as to curtains and shining with copper like a picture in a woman's magazine. But you and I will know it chiefly by its fragrances and its clutter. At the back of the stove will sit a soup kettle, gently bubbling, one into which every day are popped leftover bones and vegetables to make stock for sauces or soup for the family. Carrots and leeks will sprawl on counters, greens in a basket. There will be something sweet-smelling twirling in a bowl and something savory baking in the oven. Cabinet doors will gape ajar and colored surfaces are likely to be littered with salt and pepper and flour and herbs and cheesecloth and pot holders and long-handled forks. It won't be neat. It won't even look efficient. but when you enter it you will feel the pulse of life throbbing from every corner. The heart of the home will have begun once again to beat.

... I began to ponder; this life we had for ourselves, Eric and I, it felt like the opposite of Potage Parmentier. It was easy enough to keep on with the soul-sucking jobs; at least it saved having to make a choice. But how much longer could I take such an easy life? Quicksand was easy. Hell, death was easy. Maybe that's why my synapses had started snapping at the sight of potatoes and leeks in the Korean deli. Maybe that was what was plucking deep down in my belly whenever I thought of Julia Child's book. Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be a part of something that was not easy, just simple.

You're drunk." "That's right I am. I'm fifty-three and I'm as wild as a Welshman with a leek up his arse. Fifty-three. Old slag Gail. What right has she to poke her nose into your shining armour? That's what you're thinking isn't it honey?

Je was zo dichtbij dat het leek alsof je van mij was

Although we couldn’t entertain on the same level we had previously enjoyed, we did have several friends over for dinner and managed to cook some delectable meals. For Mama’s birthday, we made a delicious chilled artichoke soup to accompany a French Provencal chicken dish served with leeks, rice, and John’s special green salad. We poured a classic white Burgundy and topped it off with a frozen lemon souffle. Not too bad for an out-of-work couple with a new baby.

Perhaps your destiny, your lifelong role in the Wundrous Society, is to bring light to the world, in whatever form that might take--music, or art, or politics, or making a truly excellent leek and potato soup--to balance out the dark. To distract people from it. To keep Nevermoor from being consumed by it.

The banquet proceeded. The first course, a mince of olives, shrimp and onions baked in oyster shells with cheese and parsley was followed by a soup of tunny, cockles and winkles simmered in white wine with leeks and dill. Then, in order, came a service of broiled quail stuffed with morels, served on slices of good white bread, with side dishes of green peas; artichokes cooked in wine and butter, with a salad of garden greens; then tripes and sausages with pickled cabbage; then a noble saddle of venison glazed with cherry sauce and served with barley first simmered in broth, then fried with garlic and sage; then honey-cakes, nuts and oranges; and all the while the goblets flowed full with noble Voluspa and San Sue from Watershade, along with the tart green muscat wine of Dascinet.

Om te beginnen moet één ding duidelijk zijn: met ons tweeën kan het niets worden. Nooit.' 'Maar...' zei Pinchas. 'Jamais.' Mimi voelde zich net een figuur uit een roman. (...) Hij leek gewoon niet te begrijpen wat ze wilde zeggen. Gelukkig schoot haar een zin uit een boek te binnen, die haar heel goed was bevallen en precies bij deze situatie paste. 'Onze harten zingen niet dezelfde melodie.' zei ze.

It'th high time we tried getting Anabel on board with uth," said Grayson with his mouth so full that I could hardly make out what he was saying. I moved Lottie's leek and bacon tart out of his reach. "Sorry, I don't speak greedyguts-ish," I said as Grayson grunted in protest.

Antonia: I meant to tell you, and then forgot: call a spade a spade, and say 'arse', 'prick', 'cunt', and 'fuck', otherwise the only people who'll understand you will be the scholars of the Capranica think tank - you and your 'rose in the ring', your 'obelisk in the arsenal' your 'leek in the garden', your 'bolt in the door', your 'key in the lock', your 'pestle in the mortar', your 'nightingale in the nest', your 'sapling in the ditch', your 'syringe in the flap-valve', your 'sword in the sheath'; and the same goes for 'the stake', 'the crozier', the parsnip', 'the little monkey', 'his thingummy', 'her thingummy', 'the apples', 'the leaves of the mass book', 'that thingy', 'the graceful whatyamacallit', 'that whatsit', 'that doings', 'that latest news', 'the handle', 'the dart', 'that carrot', 'the root' and all the other shit that comes out of your mouth, but there you go, pussyfooting around. Let your yes mean yes, your no, no, and otherwise, just shut it.

Je leek zo heel ver weg,' fluisterde juffrouw Engel diep onder de indruk. 'O, dat was ik ook. Ik vloog langs de sterren met zilveren vleugels,' zei Matilda. 'Het was fantastisch.

Zijn testament was een puinhoop. De familie leek tijdens de verdeling op een etnisch conflict op de Balkan.

What kinds of truths were being hidden? Were there lying turnips? Were there lying leeks?

Leek frowned at Shuggie, like he was angry at his hope, disappointed that Shuggie was stupid enough to still believe.

As for those who go railing against mine age, it would seem they know ill that, for the leek hath a white head, the tail thereof is green.

Crops starting out as weeds included rye and oats, turnips and radishes, beets and leeks, and lettuce.

De wolken konden zich elk moment ontladen. Kleiner leek de onmetelijkheid van de atmosfeer en dichter bij de wereld; de hemel hing verlangend boven de aarde, klaar om deze te omarmen en te bevruchten.

Cities are like the mitochondria in our animal cells—they are consumers, fed by the autotrophs, the photosynthesis of a distant green landscape. We could lament that urban dwellers have little means of exercising direct reciprocity with the land. Yet while city folks may be separated from the sources of what they consume, they can exercise reciprocity through how they spend their money. While the digging of the leeks and the digging of the coal may be too far removed to see, we consumers have a potent tool of reciprocity right in our pockets. We can use our dollars as the indirect currency of reciprocity.

These woods are second or third growth and sadly lost their leeks long ago. It turns out that when forests around here grow back after agricultural clearing, the trees come back readily but the understory plants do not.

It takes just a few ingredients to make a healthy meal, yet industrial food companies have Americans convinced there’s no time to cook. You eat bland soup from a can, even though leeks browned with butter taste like heaven.

Coraline’s father stopped working and made them all dinner. Coraline was disgusted. “Daddy,” she said, “you’ve made a recipe again.” “It’s leek and potato stew with a tarragon garnish and melted Gruyère cheese,” he admitted.

Emma leek op alle andere maîtresses; en nu de bekoring van het nieuwe langzamerhand als een kledingstuk van haar afgleed, kwam de eentonigheid van de hartstocht bloot, die altijd dezelfde vorm heeft, die dezelfde taal spreekt.

Wat een - hoe zal ik het zeggen - verblindend iets was dat hoongelach. Het wrede, bij hun leeftijd passende gelach van mijn klasgenoten leek mij een felle schittering te zijn als van licht, dat van een bundel baderen terugkaatst.

Ooooh! Die was raak! Ik heb de roos geraakt,' gilde ze op een toon waarvan zij dacht dat die op meisjesachtige opwinding leek. Ze liet de boog vallen en klapte in haar handen. Arnaut rolde met zijn ogen. 'Aanstelster,' zei hij zachtjes.

As the servants brought out a broth of leeks and mushrooms, Butterbumps began to juggle and Lady Olenna pushed herself forward to rest her elbows on the table. “Do you know my son, Sansa? Lord Puff Fish of Highgarden?” “A great lord,” Sansa

Don’t cross your legs when you walk. Try and make room for your cock.” Leek grabbed at the bulge in the front of his corduroy and strode back and forth in a half strut, half lazy amble. “Don’t bend your knees so much. Take longer, straighter steps.

Coraline's father stopped working and made them all dinner. Coraline was disgusted. "Daddy," she said, "you've made a recipe again." "It's leek and potato stew with a tarragon garnish and melted Gruyere cheese," he admitted. Coraline sighed. Then she went to the freezer and got out some microwave chips and a microwave minipizza. "You know I don't like recipes," she told her father, while her dinner went around and around and the little red numbers on the microwave oven counted down to zero.

Schilderen leek ’m wel aardig, als je ’t goed kon. Hij kon niks, en daarom deed i maar niks. Je kon toch de dingen niet zoo weergeven als je ze onderging. Hij had maar één wensch: te versterven, onaandoenlijk te worden voor honger en slaap, voor kou en nat. Dat waren je groote vijanden. Eeuwig en altijd moest je weer eten en slapen, moest je weg van de kou, werd je nat en beroerd of moe. Zoo’n waterplas heeft ’t maar goed, die golft maar en weerspiegelt de wolken, is aldoor anders en blijft toch gelijk. Heeft nergens last van.

The recipes of the dishes served Khubilai Khan still survive. They include a variety of foods but maintain the traditional Mongol emphasis on meat and dairy products. The members of the Mongol court ate such delicacies as strips of mutton tail fat dusted with flour and baked with leeks. Bull testicles fried in hot oil, basted with saffron paste, and sprinkled with coriander. Mutton boiled with cardamom and cinnamon and served with rice and chickpeas. Young eggplant stuffed with chopped mutton, fat, yogurt, orange peel, and basil.

Increasing dietary consumption of the brassica vegetables such as broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, kale, and Brussels sprouts, as well as allium vegetables such as onions, leeks, and garlic can all increase glutathione activity and offset the risk caused by this mutation.

Vader leek wanhopig. 'Maar, Mattias , je weet dat het onmogelijk is geen sporen na te laten. Er is altijd iemand die je ziet. Altijd iemand die zich je herinnert. Altijd iemand die van je houdt. Bijna altijd. Dat is gewoon zo.' 'Dat is het niet. Het is niet zo dat ik geen sporen wil achterlaten, ze hoeven alleen niet zo zichtbaar te zijn. Ik hoef geen handafdruk in cement. Ik hoef niet geïnterviewd te worden om wat ik doe. Is dat zo erg? Dat je geen behoefte hebt om gezien te worden? Niet iedereen wil vooraan staan. Er zijn ook mensen nodig die nummer twee willen zijn.

I was determined to know beans. When they were growing, I used to hoe from five o'clock in the morning till noon, and commonly spent the rest of the day about other affairs. Consider the intimate and curious acquaintance one makes with various kinds of weeds—it will bear some iteration in the account, for there was no little iteration in the labor—disturbing their delicate organizations so ruthlessly, and making such invidious distinctions with his hoe, levelling whole ranks of one species, and sedulously cultivating another. That's Roman wormwood—that's pigweed—that's sorrel—that's piper-grass—have at him, chop him up, turn his roots upward to the sun, don't let him have a fibre in the shade, if you do he'll turn himself t' other side up and be as green as a leek in two days. A long war, not with cranes, but with weeds, those Trojans who had sun and rain and dews on their side. Daily the beans saw me come to their rescue armed with a hoe, and thin the ranks of their enemies, filling up the trenches with weedy dead. Many a lusty crest—waving Hector, that towered a whole foot above his crowding comrades, fell before my weapon and rolled in the dust.

The bones and shells and peels of things are where a lot of their goodness resides. It's no more or less lamb for being meat or bone; it's no more or less pea for being pea or pod. Grappa is made from the spent skins and stems and seeds of wine grapes; marmalade from the peels of oranges. The wine behind grappa is great, but there are moments when only grappa will do; the fruit of the orange is delicious, but it cannot be satisfactorily spread. “The skins of onions, green tops from leeks, stems from herbs must all be swept directly into a pot instead of the garbage. Along with the bones from a chicken, raw or cooked, they are what it takes to make chicken stock, which you need never buy, once you decide to keep its ingredients instead of throwing them away. If you have bones from fish, it's fish stock. If there are bones from pork or lamb, you will have pork or lamb stock.

Round the cabin stood half a dozen mountain ashes, as the rowans, inimical to witches, are there called. On the worn planks of the door were nailed two horse-shoes, and over the lintel and spreading along the thatch, grew, luxuriant, patches of that ancient cure for many maladies, and prophylactic against the machinations of the evil one, the house-leek. Descending into the doorway, in the chiaroscuro of the interior, when your eye grew sufficiently accustomed to that dim light, you might discover, hanging at the head of the widow’s wooden-roofed bed, her beads and a phial of holy water

Ik herinner me niet wie het eerst de handen van de ander wegnam. Ik herinner me alleen dat het gebeurde en dat alles vloeibaar leek te worden en dooraderd. Dat ik in het begin dacht: dat kan niet, tot ze die woorden met een haal van haar tong van mijn lippen wegnam en dat ik nadien niets meer dacht.

Before you cut yourself, you must have phoned him and told him to come get Shuggie. It all happened that fast. I couldn’t help you and help Shuggie.” Leek exhaled upwards, and his fringe rippled like a curtain in an open window. “It’s too much, Mammy. I can’t be the one to save everybody all the time.

Wist u dat ze een cyborg was?' vroeg een vrouw, zonder de afkeer uit haar toon te houden. Kai staarde haar aan en leek verward. Hij liet zijn blik over de menigte gaan, schuifelde wat dichter naar het podium toe en er verscheen een plooi boven aan zijn neus... 'Ik zie niet in wat het ertoe doet dat ze een cyborg is.

He sat down in a corner and ordered half a pound of dumplings, which came in a white bowl with a blue rim. While he was eating, his memory was further revived and sharpened by the familiar taste of the stuffing, made of pork, leeks, cabbage, dried shrimp, ginger, sesame oil. Every bit of the memory became unmistakable now.

The boy was engrossed, his face in shadow, and he looked like he was playing with small toy horses that could have easily been wooden toys, military or Trojan. Shuggie knew what they really were, that they were the scented dolls, bright and cheerful and for little girls. They were the pretty ponies, and Leek had known. Leek had always known.

It was little trouble to boil up mutton and water and mash in some leeks, garlic, and green herbs, then leave it to bubble away in its own good time. The elementary pattern these Mesopotamian recipes took was: prepare water, add fat and salt to taste; add meat, leeks, and garlic; cook in the pot; maybe add fresh coriander or mint; and serve.

One of the biggest misconceptions remains that Neil Gaiman spent his youth lurching from bedsit to library and back again, subsisting on a diet of blood-temperature baked beans and the wild leeks he managed to pull from the side of a disused railway track. It is a misconception that he nurtures, whether consciously or otherwise, through omission.

This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself. God alone is man’s true good, and since man abandoned him it is a strange fact that nothing in nature has been found to take his place: stars, sky, earth, elements, plants, cabbages, leeks, animals, insects, calves, serpents, fever, plague, war, famine, vice, adultery, incest. Since losing his true good, man is capable of seeing it in anything, even his own destruction, although it is so contrary at once to God, to reason and to nature.

Was I on a hangover?

Names didn't matter; names were for toe tags and arrest warrants, not for revenge.

To this day, I’ve never understood why McDonald’s sell a range of salads. To me, that’s like a funeral director selling life insurance or a dentist selling sweets.

Opposite the gates was a low concrete building. Dozens of men were spilling out of its windowless structure and stood in dark clumps on the Pit Road. At first it looked like they were leaving chapel, but as the diesel engine roared nearer, they turned as if they were one. The miners stopped their talking and squinted to get a good look. They all wore the same black donkey jackets and were holding large amber pints and sucking on stubby doubts. The miners had scrubbed faces and pink hands that looked free of work. It seemed wrong, these men being the only clean thing for miles. Reluctantly, the miners parted and let the taxi go by. Leek watched them as they were watching him. His stomach sank. The men all had his mother’s eyes.

Wullie and Shuggie were sitting at the round dining table eating soft eggs and soldiers. Sixty years apart, they were huddled together in the far corner like old drinking pals. Leek was upended on the settee, his bare legs up and over the back, a sketchbook in hand. When he saw his mother, he got up very quietly and passed her with a polite nod, like a stranger in the street.

In elk land tonen de treinen de essentiële kenmerken van de cultuur: Thaise treinen hebben de badkruik met de geglazuurde draak op de zijkant, de Ceylonese een wagen die gereserveerd is voor boeddhistische monniken, de Indiase een vegetarische keuken en zes klassen. De Iraanse hun bidmatjes, de Maleisische een noedelstalletje, de Vietnamese kogelvrij glas op de locomotief en in elk rijtuig van de Russische Spoorwegen staat een samovar. De spoorwegbazaar met haar reizigers en vindinkjes vertegenwoordigde de maatschappij zó volmaakt dat je je bij het instappen blootstelde aan het nationale karakter. Soms leek het op een rustige collegezaal, maar soms kreeg ik ook wel eens het gevoel dat ik gevangenzat en werd overvallen door dat monsterachtige 'typische'.

● Cabbage ● Cactus (nopal) ● Cauliflower ● Celery ● Chayote squash ● Cucumber ● Eggplant ● Garlic ●     Greens: beet, collard, dandelion, mustard, spinach, kale, chard, turnip greens, spinach, watercress, bok choy, arugula, etc. ● Tomatillo ● Tomato ● Green beans ● Kohlrabi ● Leek ● Lettuce: endive, escarole, iceberg, romaine, “baby” greens, etc. ● Mushroom ● Okra ● Onion (all types)

I made tourtes of veal, of capons, and of artichokes and cardoon hearts. I slaved over pork belly tortellini and eggs stuffed with their own yolks and raisins, pepper, cinnamon, orange juice, and butter. I made sure the pastry chef was working hard on the pastry twists made with rosewater and currants. Soups of cauliflower, mushrooms, and leeks simmered for the better part of the day.

The meal was delectable, with courses of consomme and leeks, cold poached salmon with bergamot mousseline sauce and cucumbers, curried game meats, mutton joint with savory stuffering, roasted duckling and pheasant and squab with herbed root vegetables, and so on. Tabitha, whose finest meals had consisted largely of tinned meats and powered custard, nearly wept at the smells and textures and tastes flooding her senses.

Dance for me, Hugh,” said Agnes, out of the blue. “Eh?” answered Shuggie, rolling over on the carpet. Leek groaned, he didn’t like it when she made a pet of his brother. What good was a soft boy in a hard world? He left them to their nonsense. They listened to him slam his bedroom door and knew he would be hunched over, his heavy headphones on, drawing again in the black book. “Go on, dance for me. I want you to show me how the kids today dance.

Top five tips to support your immune system Eat fermented foods, which contain helpful probiotics. Eat foods rich in a variety of prebiotic fibres, such as leeks, onions, artichokes, cabbages. Eat foods rich in polyphenols, such as colourful blueberries, beetroot, blood oranges, and nuts and seeds. Eat foods that dampen any inflammation after meals such as green leafy vegetables. Reduce consumption of meat and non-fermented dairy to occasional meals.

NUTRIENT DENSITY SCORES OF THE TOP 30 SUPER FOODS To make it easy for you to achieve Super Immunity, I’ve listed my Top 30 Super Foods below. These foods are associated with protection against cancer and promotion of a long, healthy life. Include as many of these foods in your diet as you possibly can. You are what you eat. To be your best, you must eat the best! Collard greens, mustard greens, turnip greens 100 Kale 100 Watercress 100 Brussels sprouts 90 Bok choy 85 Spinach 82 Arugula 77 Cabbage 59 Broccoli 52 Cauliflower 51 Romaine lettuce 45 Green and red peppers 41 Onions 37 Leeks 36 Strawberries 35 Mushrooms 35 Tomatoes and tomato products 33 Pomegranates / pomegranate juice 30 Carrots / carrot juice 30/37 Blackberries 29 Raspberries 27 Blueberries 27 Oranges 27 Seeds: flax, sunflower, sesame, hemp, chia 25 (avg) Red grapes 24 Cherries 21 Plums 11 Beans (all varieties) 11 Walnuts 10 Pistachio nuts 9 If you are a female eating

Prior to my second stint in Perpignan, I was a fine diner and as I saw it, food was art. At vocational school, I was being taught how to cook, but I was frustrated by how basic the dishes were. I was like a kid who had grown up listening to Chopin, then showed up at music school, never having actually played an instrument. I mean, when you listen to Chopin all the time, you want to become Chopin. And then you go to music school and all you're doing is plunking out do...re... mi for hours at a time. It's boring as hell, and not why you enrolled. I was impatient to create great meals and not so excited about starting with the basics. Why were we spending hours learning how to hold a knife or mine a shallot when we could be making nouvelle cuisine? True, I didn't know how to cut a chicken in eight pieces or make a bechamel. But in the two- and three-start restaurants I had been to, they were way over the bechamel. Still, there I was, in school, making the most basic of dishes--salade Nicoise, potato-leek soup, an omelette.

Yogurt with active cultures is one of the best sources of probiotics; just avoid fruited yogurts high in added sugars. Other probiotic-rich foods include tempeh, miso, and natto (fermented soybean products); sauerkraut; kefir (soured yogurt); kimchi (Korean pickle); kombucha (a fermented tea drink); buttermilk; and select cheeses such as cheddar, mozzarella, and Gouda. Examples of prebiotic-rich foods include beans and other legumes, oats, bananas, berries, garlic, onions, dandelion greens, asparagus, Jerusalem artichokes, and leeks.

In de geldbeluste jaren tachtig was studeren niet erg radicaal. Semiotiek was het eerste vak dat een beetje naar revolutie rook. Daar werd een grens getrokken: het was subtiel en Europees, het ging over prikkelende onderwerpen, over foltering, sadisme, hermafroditisme - over seks en macht. Madeleine was op school altijd populair geweest. Door die jarenlange populariteit kon ze snel en onfeilbaar cool van uncool onderscheiden, zelfs binnen een subgroep als het vak Engelse taal- en letterkunde, waar het begrip cool niet leek te bestaan.

Cold leek and potato soup. Little pastry boats filled with minced chicken or fish in a white sauce. A large green salad, a tomato and spring onion salad, a cold roast of beef with horseradish or port wine jelly to taste, cold roasted chickens with sage and onion stuffing, with a variety of crisp cold vegetables, each with their proper sauces. Fruit salad. A marmalade-filled roulade with slices of sugared oranges and crème Chantilly which was even now rolling in its damp tea towel as though there were no such things as culinary accidents in the world. Cheeses and fruits and coffee or tea.

Beef consommé or purée of spring vegetables," she read aloud. "I suppose I'll have the consommé." "You'd choose weak broth over spring vegetables?" "I've never had much of an appetite." "No, just listen: the cook sends for a basket of ripe vegetables from the kitchen gardens- leeks, carrots, young potatoes, vegetable marrow, tomatoes- and simmers them with fresh herbs. When it's all soft, she purées the mixture until it's like silk, and finishes it with heavy cream. It's brought to the table in an earthenware dish and ladled over croutons fried in butter. You can taste the entire garden in every spoonful.

All sens of purpose, of responsibility, indeed of any imaginable future, were removed from her by the deaths of her husband and child. It was they who used to make her life a story, they who seemed to be giving it a beginning, a middle and an end. Nowadays, her life is more like a newspaper: aimless, up-to-date, full of meaningless events for Colonel Leek to recite when no one's paying attention. For all the use she is to Society, beyond intercepting the odd squirt of sperm that would otherwise have troubled a respectable wife, she might as well be dead. Yet, she exists, and, against the odds, she is happy.

It turns out that French parents don’t start their babies off on bland, colorless grains. From the first bite, they serve babies flavor-packed vegetables. The first foods that French babies typically eat are steamed and pureed green beans, spinach, carrots, peeled zucchini, and the white part of leeks. American babies eat vegetables, too, of course, sometimes even from the start. But we Anglophones tend to regard vegetables as obligatory vitamin-delivery devices and mentally group them in a dull category called “vegetables.” Although we’re desperate for our kids to eat vegetables, we don’t always expect them to.

Een druppel viel. Begs hart kromp omdat hij al zo lang niet zo'n sereen geluid gehoord had. De rimpeling op het water stierf weg. Hij zou zich willen uitkleden, de treden afdalen tot op de bodem van het bassin, zijn lichaam onderdompelen, het reinigen van het vuil van de wereld. Zelfs van het vuil dat er niet af ging, zou hij zich schoonwassen. Een nieuwe ziel. Daar diep in de aarde, bij het magische water, leek zoiets werkelijk mogelijk. Wat een aangename, troostende gedachte... Zijn oude ziel afleggen, dat rafelige, versleten ding, er een nieuwe voor in de plaats krijgen. Wie wilde dat niet? Wie zou zoiets afwijzen?

Tender poached egg. Creamy mashed potatoes. And the thick layer of hot, melted cheese! Those are all incredibly delicious, but what takes the cake is the roux! It's been made in a VICHYSSOISE style!" VICHYSSOISE Boiled potatoes, onions, leeks and other ingredients are pureed with cream and soup stock to make this potage. It's often served chilled. Its creation is generally credited to Louis Diat, a French chef at the Ritz Carlton in New York, who first put it on the hotel's menu in 1917. "Amazing! It looks like a thick, heavy dish that would sit in the stomach like lead, but it's so easy to eat!" "The noodles! It's the udon noodles, along with the coriander powder, that makes it feel so much lighter! Coriander is known for its fresh, almost citrusy scent and its mildly spicy bite. It goes exceptionally well with the cumin kneaded into the noodles, each spice working to heighten the other's fragrance. AAAH! It's immensely satisfying!" "I have also included dill, vichyssoise's traditional topping. Dry roasting the dill seeds together with the cumin seeds made a spice mix that gave a strong aroma to the roux." "Hm! Fat noodles in a thick, creamy roux. Eating them is much the same experience as having dipping noodles. What an amazing concept to arrive at from a century-old French soup recipe!

Vanmiddag kwam je brief en ik was er zó blij mee. Als je altijd zo was als in deze brief. Het leek weer net als vroeger en ik was ineens weer zo verliefd op je. Ik denk dat ik maar blijf totdat ik weer terug ben. 't Is een erg prettig gevoel. Mijn eenzame bed begint hoe langer hoe eenzamer te lijken en ik verlang ernaar om uit te vinden of je zoenen dezelfde herinneringen op zullen roepen als deze brief. Ik verlang nog net als vroeger naar een geluk dat langer duurt dan een omhelzing. En ik weet niet of het bestaat, net als vijf jaar geleden. Ik heb vanavond het gevoel alsof je niet bestaat. Wat ik je had willen schrijven staat nergens in mijn brief.

Eind van de middag, ik was net uit school thuisgekomen (daar had ik zorgvuldig geheimgehouden dat ik jarig was om te voorkomen dat ik zou moeten trakteren, want daarvoor wilde mijn moeder mij geen versnaperingen meegeven), kwam mijn grootvader met zijn cadeau aanzetten. Aan de alsmaar naderbij komende, zeer krachtige tikken van zijn wandelstok op de trottoirtegels kon je horen dat hij zich erop verheugde andermaal een naar hem vernoemde kleinzoon gul te bedelen. Hij droeg een groot pak en overhandigde mij dat in de woonkamer. Plechtig verwijderde ik het papier. Wat mij op mijn achtste jaar ten deel was gevallen, bleek een vorstelijke meccanodoos te zijn. Weliswaar geen nieuwe fiets, maar toch iets ongehoords. Mijn grootvader verwijderde zich weer, want er was op dat moment niemand bij de hand om mee te dammen. Mij leek toen het grote ogenblik gekomen om de meccanodoos verder uit te pakken en ermee aan de slag te gaan. Toen ik aanstalten maakte om hem te openen, riep mijn moeder: 'Wat doe je nou?' 'Ik ga hem openmaken, ik wil ermee spelen.' 'Ben je helemaal betoeterd geworden? Zo'n duur cadeau. Blijf af.' 'Maar... maar... ik heb hem toch van opa gekregen. Ik wil ermee spelen.' 'Geen sprake van, afblijven. Zo'n duur cadeau, en daar wou je zomaar met je tengels aanzitten? Niks hoor, ik zet hem weg.' Ze pakte de meccanodoos op en plaatste hem achter lakens en slopen in het dressoir. Toen mijn vader thuiskwam, werd de doos weer tevoorschijn gehaald en wederom vol verbazing aanschouwd. Zeker, het was geen nieuwe fiets, maar toch... Wat een cadeau. 'Opa 't Hart is maar goed op je,' zei mijn vader. 'Maar ik mag er niet mee spelen,' zei ik verongelijkt. 'Nee, natuurlijk niet,' zei mijn vader, 'daar heeft je moeder groot gelijk in, zo'n duur cadeau, het zou gekkenwerk zijn als je daar met je poten aan zou zitten. D'r kan zomaar een schroefje of moertje of ander onderdeeltje kwijtraken, niks hoor, je moeder bergt hem weer netjes op.' 'Zo is het,' zei mijn moeder, en weg ging de meccanodoos.

Carlos leek altijd over zijn toeren, alsof hij net een stuk of vijf benzedrinetabletten had geslikt. Je kon zijn aandacht niet langer dan één minuut op hetzelfde gericht houden. Van een mening over een stuk van Tennessee Williams sprong hij over op de decorontwerpen van een of andere Fransman, een opname van Sarah Bernhardt die hij op de Universidad had gehoord, een stuk dat een student had geschreven en waarvoor hij overwoog de regering om subsidie te vragen, zodat het kon worden gespeeld. Meeslepend, dat wel, maar niet erg bevredigend. En kon uit al die opwinding kunst voortkomen? Was kunst niet – bijna altijd – emotie die in alle rust tot bespiegeling wordt verheven? Ook voor een zuiderling? Theodore moest lachen om zijn eigen vurige ernst.

The house was squashed like a mushroom by a thatched roof that hung far out over the walls. A pair of windows sparkled on either side of a rounded, heavy wooden door. There was nothing particularly creepy or witch-ish about it at all, except for maybe some leeks that grew on the roof around the higgledy-piggledy chimney (out of which wafted a lovely, homey-smelling smoke). Next to the cottage was a small fenced-in kitchen garden, and even in the low light Rapunzel could see it wasn't given over just to herbs and vegetables. Tall rockets of flowers and pretty, feathery foliage shot colorfully out of the corners. There was even a neat flagstone path that led up to the front door. "Witch?" Flynn asked, skeptical. "Or, like... crunchy earth mother type who drinks herbal teas and pretends the goddess speaks to her?

Once the leeks and potatoes have simmered for an hour or so, you mash them up with a fork or a food mill or a potato ricer. All three of these options are far more of a pain in the neck than the Cuisinart- one of which space-munching behemoths we scored when we got married- but Julia Child allows as how a Cuisinart will turn soup into "something un-French and monotonous." Any suggestion that uses the construction "un-french" is up for debate, but if you make Potage Parmentier, you will see her point. If you use the ricer, the soup will have bits- green bits and white bits and yellow bits- instead of being utterly smooth. After you've mushed it up, just stir in a couple of hefty chunks of butter, and you're done. JC says sprinkle with parsley but you don't have to. It looks pretty enough as it is, and it smells glorious, which is funny when you think about it. There's not a thing in it but leeks, potatoes, butter, water, pepper, and salt.

Connie begon het bestaan van benen te beseffen. Zij werden belangrijker voor haar dan gezichten, die niet langer meer erg werkelijk waren. Hoe weinig mensen hadden levende, gevoelige benen! Zij keek naar de mannen in de stalles. Grote, worsterige dijen in zwart worstdoek, of diunne houten stokjes in zwart begrafenisgoed, of welgevormde jonge benen zonder enige betekenis, geen sensualiteit of tederheid of gevoeligheid, gewoonweg een pantoffelparade van benen van niets. Zelfs niet iets van de sensualiteit, die haar vader had. Zij waren alle ontmoedigd, zodat zij niet meer bestonden, als het ware. Maar de vrouwen waren niet ontmoedigd. De vreselijke kilometerpaaltjes, die de meeste vrouwen tot benen hadden! Gewoon ergerlijk! Werkelijk voldoende, om een moord te rechtvaardigen! Of de arme pijpestelen! of de keurig nette dingen in zijden kousen, zonder iets, dat op leven leek! Vreselijk, de miljoenen onbeduidende benen, die doelloos rondstapten!

For my first home-cooked meal in Tokyo, I took an assortment of beautiful Japanese ingredients and did what came naturally: I made Chinese food. I stir-fried some beautifully marbled kurobuta (Berkshire breed) pork with bok choy, ginger, and leeks, sauced it with soy sauce, mirin, and vinegar, and served it over rice, sprinkled with shichimi tōgarashi seven-spice mixture. This seemed like a reasonable act of Japanese-Chinese fusion. I made some quick-pickled cucumbers on the side. This was before we discovered that anything you do to a Japanese cucumber diminishes it. I should have known this; once I interviewed a Japanese-American farmer who grows more than a hundred Asian vegetables in Washington state. Naturally, I asked him about his personal favorite. Cucumber, he said. "How do you prepare it?" I asked. "Slice and eat." The whole meal was about the same as something I'd make at home, but I cooked it in Japan. It was like the SpongeBob SquarePants episode where SpongeBob has to work the night shift at the Krusty Krab, and he keeps saying things like, "I'm chopping lettuce... at night!" I was slicing cucumbers... in Tokyo!

Het was eruit voor hij het wist: 'Hoe komt dat toch dat negers zo'n lange hebben?' De neger, die trouwens So heette, want ze hebben ook een moeder die hen af en toe aan tafel moet roepen, leek niet te zijn geschrokken van deze impulsieve reactie en kwansuis bijna liet hij het zich ontvallen dat ook blanke mannen over een lange penis kunnen beschikken. Een blanke man een grote jan? Hoe dan? De neger, So dus, legde het recept voor een halve meter mannelijkheid uit en die avond nog bond Lode een baksteen aan zijn fluit. Zeker een kilogram zwaar was dat ding, maar het scheen de wetten van de fysica inderdaad logisch toe dat ieder lichaamsdeel, voortdurend onderhevig aan de trekkracht van een dom gewicht, langer kon worden. Er was trouwens sprake van kinderen met één te lange arm, namelijk die arm aan de hand waarmee ze altijd al hun boekentas hadden gedragen. De baksteen hing daar als een dobber aan een vislijntje, Lode ging ermee werken, baden en slapen tot de steen het gewenste resultaat had opgeleverd. Toen So één week later naar de vorderingen in Lodes onderbroek informeerde was het een glimlach waaruit zijn woorden kwamen: 'Hij is nog geen centimeter gegroeid, maar hij ziet wel al zwart.

It's a parade of flawless tuna deliciousness! But by far, the most dangerous piece... is the one that looks like a bomb of pure tuna goodness, the straw-grilled, seared noten sushi! The noten- a cut of meat from the top of the tuna's head- is one of the priciest cuts. Extravagantly fatty, its richness melds with the fragrant searing into a powerful duo! Yet there isn't the first hint of fishiness! Searing it using aromatic straw burned it away, leaving only pure savory flavor behind to please both nose and palate!" "His Trace was dead-on. Looks like it really will be his arrangements on that Gunkan Maki that decide this card." "I can't even begin to guess what it tastes like." What's this on top of the minced tuna and leeks?! Is it... meringue?! "Aah! Now I see! I know what Subaru Mimasaka took out at that moment! It was the same smoked soy sauce he passed to Kuga!" The mellow, full-bodied aroma of smoked soy sauce has seeped into every crevice of the minced tuna... ... while the differing textures of the meringue and the negitoro create deeper, more complex layers to the flavor! If I were to name it, I would call it the "Ultimate Negitoro Eggs-over-Rice Gunkan Sushi"! Minced tuna rib meat mixed with leeks and smoked soy sauce, topped with quail-egg yolk

That knife! It looks similar to a machete-like weapon used in India- the Kukri! He's using it to chop leeks, ginger and some herbs... Which he's tossing into a pot of rich chicken stock!" "Ah! Now he's grinding his spices!" Cross! "What?! He's crossing different implements in every step of his recipe?! Can he even do that?!" "I recognize that mortar and pestle. It's the kind they use in India to grind spices." "Oh gosh... I can already smell the fragrance from here!" He clearly knows just how much to grind each spice... ... and to toast each in a little oil to really bring out its fragrance! "Ah, I see! What he has steaming on that other burner is shark fin!" "From Indian cuisine, we dive straight into something very Chinese! Cross! Saiba x Mò Liú Zhâo!" "What the heck? He's stroking the fin... ... quickly running the claws along its grain!" Ah! I see what he's doing! Shark fin by itself is flavorless. Even in true Chinese cuisine... ...it's simmered in Paitan stock or oyster sauce first to give it a stronger, more concentrated umami punch. But by using those claws, he can't skip that step... ... and directly infuse the fin with umami flavor compounds! "Saiba... Cross..." "Aaaah! That implement! I recognize that one! Eishi Tsukasa!" Tsukasa Senpai's Super-Sized Grater-Sword! "He took a huge lump of butter... ... and is grating it down into shavings at unbelievable speed!"

If the queen catches you in here again, Princess, she'll sentence you to do the dishes right alongside me! she heard another voice ring out. No one was there, but Snow knew the voice. It was Mrs. Kindred, the cook who had survived her aunt's dismissals over the years. When Snow's mother was alive, she'd encouraged her daughter to be friendly with those who helped them in the castle, and Mrs. Kindred had always been Snow's favorite person to chat with. She could see herself sitting on a chair, no more than six or seven, watching Mrs. Kindred chop onions, carrots, and leeks and throw them all into a giant pot of broth. She and Mrs. Kindred only stole a few moments together most days now- she suspected her aunt must have forbidden the cook from talking to her, what with how Mrs. Kindred always quickly sent Snow on her way- but back then she had always peppered the cook with questions. ("How do you cut the carrots so small? Why do leeks have sand in them? What spices are you going to add? How do you know how much to put in?") On one such occasion, she'd been such a distraction that Mrs. Kindred had finally picked her up, holding her high on her broad chest, and let her stir the pot herself. Eventually, she taught her how to dice and chop, too, since Snow wouldn't stop talking. By suppertime, young Snow had convinced herself she'd made the whole meal. She had been proud, too, carrying the dishes out to the dining table that night.

Foods to Embrace: Probiotics: Yogurt with active cultures, tempeh, miso, natto, sauerkraut, kefir, kimchi, kombucha, buttermilk, and certain cheeses. Prebiotics: Beans, oats, bananas, berries, garlic, onions, dandelion greens, asparagus, Jerusalem artichokes, and leeks. Low-GI carbohydrates: Brown rice, quinoa, steel-cut oatmeal, and chia seeds. Medium-GI foods, in moderation: Honey, orange juice, and whole-grain bread. Healthy fats: Monounsaturated fats like olive oil, nuts, nut butters, and avocados. Omega-3 fatty acids: Fish, especially fatty fish like salmon, mackerel, tuna, herring, and sardines. Vitamins B9, B12, B1, B6, A, and C. Minerals and micronutrients: Iron, magnesium, potassium, zinc, and selenium. Spices: Saffron and turmeric. Herbs: Oregano, lavender, passionflower, and chamomile. Foods to Avoid: Sugar: Baked goods, candy, soda, or anything sweetened with sugar or high-fructose corn syrup. High-GI carbs: White bread, white rice, potatoes, pasta, and anything else made from refined flour. Artificial sweeteners: Aspartame is particularly harmful, but also saccharin, sucralose, and stevia in moderation and with caution. Fried foods: French fries, fried chicken, fried seafood, or anything else deep-fried in oil. Bad fats: Trans fats such as margarine, shortening, and hydrogenated oils are to be avoided totally; omega-6 fats such as vegetable, corn, sunflower, and safflower oil should only be consumed in moderation. Nitrates: An additive used in bacon, salami, sausage, and other cured meats.

Hoe vaak hoorden we geen uitspraken in de zin van: “Wetenschappelijk onderzoek toonde aan dat …” of “Het is wetenschappelijk bewezen dat …” Daarbij neemt men aan dat wetenschap altijd waar is. Maar hoe betrouwbaar is wetenschap? Heel veel van wat we wetenschap noemen, en we als waar aanvaarden, is noch waar, noch onwaar, en behoort tot de metafysica. Gedurende een korte tijd (volgend op de publicatie van de Tractatus van Wittgenstein) zag het ernaar uit dat we een messcherp onderscheid konden maken tussen betrouwbare wetenschappelijke uitspraken en onbetrouwbare metafysische uitspraken. Maar Wittgenstein zette dat onderscheid zelf op de helling met de postume publicatie van zijn Philosophical Investigations. Nog later pakte de (overwegend Franse) postmoderne filosofie uit met de stelling dat er in de algehele wetenschap minder waarheid is vervat dan in een simpel literair gedicht. De tijd van betrouwbare algemene theorieën leek hopeloos voorbij. Is dat zo? Is cognitief denken onmogelijk geworden? Hierna volgt een reflectie. Het tijdgewricht waarin we leven, althans in de westerse wereld, noemt men de postmoderniteit. Het wordt gekenmerkt door grote onzekerheid en een gevoel van toenemende onveiligheid. Onzekerheid heerst rond onbeantwoorde vragen met betrekking tot de toekomst van de planeet, tot de duurzaamheid van de energievoorziening, tot de werkzekerheid, tot de stabiliteit van het gezin, tot de gedaalde sociale controle, tot de toename van het aantal asielzoekers, tot het bestaan van een god, enzovoort. Onveiligheid houdt verband met oorlog, met terrorisme, met criminaliteit. Het is de bedoeling al die fenomenen wetenschappelijk te bestuderen. Maar hoe zeker ben ik dat wetenschap nog steeds betrouwbaar is?

New trout, having never seen rain on the river, rise eagerly to ripples on the Mink. Some windows close against the moist and some open for the music. Rain slips and slides along hawsers and chains and ropes and cables and gladdens the cells of mosses and weighs down the wings of moths. It maketh the willow shiver its fingers and thrums on doors of dens in the fens. It falls on hats and cats and trucks and ducks and cars and bars and clover and plover. It grayeth the sand on the beach and fills thousands of flowers to the brim. It thrills worms and depresses damselflies. Slides down every window rilling and murmuring. Wakes the ancient mud and mutter of the swamp, which has been cracked and hard for months. Falls gently on leeks and creeks and bills and rills and the last shriveled blackberries like tiny dried purple brains on the bristles of bushes. On the young bear trundling through a copse of oaks in the woods snorffling up acorns. On ferns and fawns, cubs and kits, sheds and redds. On salmon as long as your arm thrashing and roiling in the river. On roof and hoof, doe and hoe, fox and fence, duck and muck. On a slight man in a yellow slicker crouched by the river with his recording equipment all covered against the rain with plastic wrap from the grocery store and after he figures out how to get the plastic from making crinkling sounds when he turns the machine on he settles himself in a little bed of ferns and says to the crow huddled patiently in rain, okay, now, here we go, Oral History Project, what the rain says to the river as the wet season opens, project number …something or other … where’s the fecking start button? …I can’t see anything … can you see a green light? yes? is it on? damn my eyes … okay! there it is! it’s working! rain and the river! here we go!

The frightened soul ran into the wine cellar with the steel door. I’m safe, Calloway thought, but he was dead wrong. Railrunner’s claws slashed through the steel door. They cut through the metal like butter. He then began to pull the door off its hinges. Suddenly a smoke bomb fell to the floor, making the place vaporous, but Railrunner’s eyes could see through it. He discovered the flashing lights of squad cars. His eyes narrowed and he growled low in his throat. “Come on out with your hands up!” an officer yelled. Railrunner walked upright towards the entrance. He then pushed the doors off their hinges and stood in the line of fire. “It’s a - roller coaster?” One of the police said baffled, the gun shaking in his hand. Railrunner crossly walked up to the police. They began to fire, their bullets simply bouncing off of him. He then grabbed the front bumper of the cruiser, and tossed it like a toy. It smashed into another car. Railrunner flung an officer out of his way and roared in sheer amusement. Within a blink of an eye he obliterated the small police force.

Lemon Barley Chicken Soup: The first thing you have to do is make chicken broth. Over here in France, I can’t seem to find acceptable packaged chicken broth, so I make it from scratch; it’s really not tricky. Remove the skin from four or five chicken thighs. Put them in a big pot, along with a cut-up onion, a carrot or two, some celery, salt and pepper, and lots of water. Cook this mélange very, very slowly (bubbles just rising) for a few hours (at least three). When you’ve got the broth under way, cook the barley: take 1 cup of barley and simmer it slowly in 4 to 5 cups of water. When it’s soft, drain the barley, but reserve any remaining barley water so you can add it to the broth. When the broth is ready, skim off the froth. Then remove the chicken thighs and when they’re cool enough, strip the meat off the bones, saving it for the soup. Strain the broth and put it to the side. Now that you’ve got chicken broth, it’s time for the soup itself—the rest is even easier. Cut up some leeks, if you have them, though an onion works just fine, too. If you’ve got leeks, put some butter in your (now emptied) stockpot over low heat; use olive oil instead if you have onions. While the leeks/onions are softening, finely mince a knob of ginger and 2 or 3 garlic cloves. If you can get some, you can also crush some lemongrass and put it in at this point. I never seem to cook it right (it always stays tough), but it adds great flavor. Dump all that in with the softened leeks/onions. Cook until you can smell it, but take care to avoid browning. Then add the cut-up chicken and the barley, and pour in the broth. Simmer it over low heat for about half an hour. Add salt to taste. To get a great lemon kick, squeeze 2 lemons and beat the juice well with 2 egg yolks. With the pot removed from the heat source, briskly whisk this mixture into the soup, being careful that the eggs don’t separate and curdle. Then return the pot to the heat and stir vigorously for a bit, until the eggs are cooked. This soup is excellent for sick people (ginger, hot lemon, and chicken; need I say more?) and a tonic for sad people (total comfort). And it’s even better the next day.

Want de Atheense democratie is inmiddels, zoals iedere democratie mettertijd, een parodie op zichzelf geworden, waarin leiders dagelijks ter verantwoording worden geroepen en waarin het beleid elke dag opnieuw ter discussie staat. De staat wordt geregeerd door de angst voor volksgerichten en de volatiliteit van de publieke opinie. […] Het volk is verdeeld. Het lijkt wel alsof er elke dag meer facties en partijen met verontwaardigde deelbelangen bij komen, die meer energie investeren in het bestrijden van elkaar dan in het dienen van het collectieve belang. Wanneer zich geen substantiële kwestie aandient waarover men van mening kan verschillen, worden willekeurige trivialiteiten aangegrepen om haat en vijandigheid uit te diepen en te benadrukken wat het volk verdeelt in plaats van wat het volk zou moeten verbinden. Ieder is overtuigd van zijn eigen gelijk en de waarheid wordt onder de immense hoeveelheid waarheden bedolven. Hiermee is de democratie verworden tot een ochlocratie, waarin de turbulentie van opvliegendheid en oncontroleerbare verontwaardiging de macht hebben gegrepen en waarin het staatsbelang dagelijks wordt geofferd op het altaar van de deelbelangen van doelgroepen. Wantrouwend en verdeeld volk kan leiders afzetten en beleid saboteren, maar het kan geen staat besturen. De democratie erodeert onder de obsessie voor pietluttigheden en details. Achterdocht knaagt onophoudelijk en de metselspecie van vertrouwen in de collectieve zaak wordt met elk incident verder afgebikt tot zij verpulvert en het bouwwerk instort dat ooit solide leek. Een autocratie kan maatschappelijke coherentie goedschiks of kwaadschiks afdwingen, maar een democratie functioneert uitsluitend bij de gratie van het breekbare vertrouwen in haar wetten en instituties. Dit vertrouwen wordt doelbewust verder ondermijnd door politici die in naam van de democratie het wantrouwen in de democratie voeden. Hoe verdeeld het volk ook is, er staan om de haverklap leiders op die de uiteenlopende vormen van onvrede mobiliseren en pretenderen dat zij namens het gehele volk spreken. Zij spiegelen het volk voor dat het een monopolie heeft op het gezonde verstand en dat het homogeen is in zoverre het wordt verraden door de politieke elite. Zij presenteren het als een vanzelfsprekendheid dat de gezonde volkswil, die door de heersende klasse wordt genegeerd, naadloos samenvalt met hun eigen standpunten en elke mening die afwijkt van die van hen, beschouwen zij als een verloochening van het soevereine volk en een verkrachting van de democratie. Zij doen een beroep op emotie en presenteren rationaliteit als een instrument van het establishment. Het volk heeft geen behoefte aan feiten of argumenten, omdat het volk dondersgoed weet dat argumentatie een onderdeel is van het complot om het volk te onderwerpen en dat dat de feiten zijn. Met de insinuatie dat de democratische instituties het werktuig zijn waarmee de politieke elite het volk knecht en kleineert, zetten zij het volk in naam van de democratie op tegen de democratie, die in hun visie geen democratie mag heten als zij niet neerkomt op een compromisloze alleenheerschappij van hun eigen gelijk.

I will use that knowledge to move to a place within myself that will give you the reassurance and confidence that I will to the best of my ability become the person that I need to be for you to feel safe enough to restore the innocence in the relationship.

I commit to deeply listening to your needs and feelings until I fully understand them and appreciate what you need to feel, hear and see in order to fully believe that I truly wish to make amends.

It occurred to her to drive to Grand Rapids and buy some actual wine. It occurred to her to drive back to the house without buying anything at all. But then where would she be? A weariness set in as she stood and vacillated: a premonition that none of the possible impending outcomes would bring enough relief or pleasure to justify her current heart-racing wretchedness. She saw, in other words, what it meant to have become a deeply unhappy person. And yet the autobiographer now envies and pities the younger Patty standing there in the Fen City Co-op innocently believing that she'd reached the bottom: that, one way or another, the crisis would be resolved in the next five days. A chubby teenage girl at the cash register had taken an interest in her paralysis. Patty gave her a lunatic smile and went and got a plastic-wrapped chicken and five ugly potatoes and some humble, limp leeks. The only thing worse than inhabiting her anxiety undrunk, she decided, would be to be drunk and still inhabiting it.

toxins. But certain foods can help optimize your body’s natural purification system. These include cruciferous vegetables such as broccoli, cauliflower, and kale, all of which contain compounds that help the liver break down harmful forms of estrogen for safe elimination. Onions, leeks, chives, garlic, and shallots are rich in sulfur to fortify detox pathways in the liver. Plants from the thistle family—artichokes, dandelions, and burdock—enhance liver function by upping bile flow.

The incredible range of tastes, textures, and versatility of vegetables means there are choices for everyone, from eggplant sliced and baked with olive oil and meaty portobello mushrooms; to a Caprese salad of sliced tomatoes, mozzarella, fresh basil, and olive oil; to daikon radish and pickled ginger alongside fish. Extend your vegetable variety beyond your usual habits. Explore mushrooms such as shiitake and porcini. Adorn cooked dishes with alliums such as scallions, garlic, leeks, shallots, and chives. Vegetables shouldn’t just be for dinner; think about vegetables for any time of day, including breakfast.

He cleared our bowls and replaced my soup with a plate of creamy chicken with baby potatoes, carrots, and leeks. In front of Riley, he set fillets of red snapper, the fish ornamented with sprigs of rosemary and wedges of lemon.

Vakbekwaam zonder enig inzicht moet de mens gegeven zijn, die nooit niks zag, enkel en alleen trots leek te zijn op niets.

Kale Kohlrabi Leeks Lettuce Mushrooms Mustard greens Onions Parsley Pumpkin Radicchio Radishes Shallots Spinach Squash (acorn, butternut, spaghetti, summer, winter) Swiss chard Tomatoes Turnips Turnip greens Watercress Zucchini

What's next?" he asked. "We need to grind some pepper." I pushed the mortar toward him, then poured a generous handful of peppercorns into the stone basin. "And silphium?" I gave him a genuine smile then. Silphium was a precious herb I used in many of my dishes, but in recent years it had become quite scarce and costly. It had a taste that was reminiscent of leeks, garlic, and fennel, but smoother and more aromatic. It was one of Apicius's flavors. "Definitely silphium.

She lifted a piece of sourdough bruschetta slathered with seafood and a light-colored sauce. She bit carefully into the creation. Her mouth exploded with flavor. Prawns and lobster swimming in the most delectable sauce. Buttery and layered, with whisky and leeks and onions and simple herbs. Sophia moaned. There was more than just one bite on this plate. Thank God. Not strictly a true amuse-bouche, but Sophia didn't care. Was it bad form to lick the plate in a cooking competition? This drab little plate had miraculously fixed her taste bud deficiency. Unbelievable. The moment had just shifted from black-and-white to color, like a scene from the Wizard of Oz. Who had created this dish? Someone with a sophisticated palate but no eye for visual presentation. The last plate beckoned, but she already knew it was a lost cause. There was no way it could best that seafood stew. It was a lovely crepe, packed with grilled eggplant and goat cheese. And now that Sophia's taste had been awakened from hibernation, she was able to enjoy every bite. But it still wasn't enough to out-shine the prawns. Those prawns sang to her, and they needed her. They demanded color and brightness. The sauce was bold and rich. That plate clamored for the balance of her garden. She could imagine a prickly little salad to offer texture and bite, to complement that exquisite sauce. Those prawns needed her.

Ik zou het nog niet half zo lang hebben volgehouden,' zei ik, maar toen besefte ik dat hij in veel opzichten op de Dobu leek: zijn paranoïde trekjes, zijn zwarte humor, zijn wantrouwen jegens plezier, zijn geheimzinnigdoenerij. Ik ging als vanzelf aan zijn resultaten twijfelen. Als er maar één kenner van een bepaald volk is, zegt diens analyse dan meer over dat volk of over hem? Zoals gewoonlijk was ik meer geïnteresseerd in het raakvlak tussen die twee dan in andere dingen.

So Jamal began loading up his diet with arginine-rich foods: arugula, bacon, beets, bok choy, celery, Chinese cabbage, cucumber, fennel, leeks, mustard greens, parsley, and watercress.