Tres Leches Cake Quotes

Our minifridge had nothing but tres leches cake in it.

I need something to calm me. Something sweet and rich and decadent. Not chocolate, not pie. There it is. Tres leches cake. A white cake waiting in a white porcelain baking dish. Cream pouring down, not a drizzle, but a thick, steady, heavy stream. Soaking into the dry sponge of the cake. Being drunk up hungrily. Seeming to disappear, but changing everything. Texture. Taste. The cake can't stay the way it is. Without all three milks it's too dry. It has to change.

Ghastek leaned back and crossed his arms. “I had a promising career. I had achieved recognition and some infinitesimal measure of security. And then you came along.” Aha. He and the dozens of hostages working in this building could cry me a river. “Who taught you to draw, Ghastek? That doesn’t even remotely look like an apple. It looks like a butt.” “More like a peach,” Rowena said. “I have an inspection in less than twenty-four hours,” Ghastek said, his voice dry. “If we have quite finished critiquing my ability to draw fruit, I have things to do.” I leaned back. “Are you worried about it?” He looked insulted. “No. We can be inspected at any point, and we would stand up to scrutiny.” “If you are anxious, I can make sure he eats something deliciously sweet before he comes over here. Like a generous helping of tres leches cake or a chocolate sundae.” Ghastek stared at me. “Get out.” I rose and made a show of sniffling. “Come on, Julie. Clearly we are not wanted here.