Saucepan Quotes

They were looking after themselves, living with rigid economy; and there was no greater proof of their friendship than the way their harmony withstood their very grave differences in domestic behaviour. In Jack's opinion Stephen was little better than a slut: his papers, odd bits of dry, garlic'd bread, his razors and small-clothes lay on and about his private table in a miserable squalor; and from the appearance of the grizzled wig that was now acting as a tea-cosy for his milk-saucepan, it was clear that he had breakfasted on marmalade.
Jack took off his coat, covered his waistcoat and breeches with an apron, and carried the dishes into the scullery. 'My plate and saucer will serve again,' said Stephen. 'I have blown upon them. I do wish, Jack,' he cried, 'that you would leave that milk-saucepan alone. It is perfectly clean. What more sanitary, what more wholesome, than scalded milk? ~ Patrick O'Brian

What were you asleep? Helen would say as I opened the door. "I've been up since five." In her hand would be aluminum tray covered with foil, either that or a saucepan with a lid on it.
"Well," I'd tell her, "I didn't go to bed until three."
"I didn't go to bed until three thirty."
This was how it was with her: If you got fifteen minutes of sleep, she got only ten. If you had a cold, she had the flu. If you'd dodged a bullet, she'd dodged five. Blindfolded. After my mother's funeral, I remember her greeting me with "So what? My mother died when I was half your age."
"Gosh," I said. "Thing of everything she missed."
pgs. 86-87 ~ David Sedaris

Christmas Eve Punch Ingredients 2 cups water ¾ cup sugar ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon 4 cups chilled cranberry/apple juice 1 46-ounce can chilled pineapple juice 1 liter chilled ginger ale In a large saucepan bring your water, sugar, and cinnamon to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Chill. Before you serve, add the sugar water mixture, chilled juices, and ginger ale to a large punch bowl. Serve in party glasses over ice. ~ Lee Hollis

The best honey comes from a source you know, and is processed without heat. Raw, unfiltered honey retains its royal jelly, bee pollen and propolis - three major sources of antioxidants, vitamins and minerals. 1 cup of locally produced, raw organic honey 1 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice Additional water, about 2 cups 2-½ cups water Ice cubes or crushed ice 1 tablespoon dried culinary lavender Combine honey and 2-½ cups of water in a saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the honey. When the mixture reaches a boil, stir in the lavender and remove from heat. Let the mixture steep for 20 minutes. Strain the lavender from the liquid, then add the fresh lemon juice and an additional 2 cups of water. Use sparkling water if you wish. Pour into glasses full of ice and serve, garnished with a sprig of lavender or mint. [Source: Original] ~ Susan Wiggs

My agent, Debbie, saying, 'Don't get involved in advertising.' She gets so many calls a day about me promoting a product, but I am really pleased I have never gone down that route. I don't want somebody else to make a saucepan with my name on it. ~ Delia Smith

He said he'd teach her the important things, starting with the most important thing of all, the correct way to make tea and rice, so tea wasn't overbrewed and the rice wasn't overcooked. He said: You want to make food forget Indian way. Indian's system is like American system, everything overdone. They have no subtle. He sent her to buy octopus. She brought the tentacles home in a bag of ice and cut them into thin slices, at a sharp angle. She put the sliced octopus in a saucepan with ginger and green onions and added a black bean paste. He told her to touch the octopus to the flame and serve. But she let the dish cook for a good five minutes until the flesh was tough and rubbery. You overdid, he told her. Old Chinese saying, you don't need take off your pant to fart. ~ Jeet Thayil

INT. NEWT'S HOUSE - NIGHT
NEWT opens the front door cautiously. Inside, a baby Niffler is swinging from the brass cord of a table lamp, causing the light to flicker on and off. The baby Niffler succeeds in stealing the brass cord before spotting NEWT. It scampers away, knocking all manner of objects to the floor.
NEWT spots a second baby Niffler sitting on a set of weighing scales, pinned down by gold-colored weights it is clearly attempting to steal.
As the first baby makes it to the dining table, NEWT lightly drops a saucepan on top of it, which continues moving across the table. NEWT tosses an apple into the opposite weighing scale, sending the baby Niffler flying into the air. NEWT catches both baby Nifflers as they fall, then tucks them into his pockets.
Satisfied, NEWT heads toward the door to his basement but turns at the last moment to see a third escaped baby Niffler climbing onto a bottle of champagne on the counter. With a sense of inevitability, the champagne bottle pops and the baby Niffler zooms toward NEWT on top of the cork, soaring past him and down the stairs to the basement. ~ J.K. Rowling

So many of us fail: we divorce our wives and husbands, we leave the roofs of our lovers, go once again into the lonely march, mustering our courage with work, friends, half pleasures which are not whole because they are not shared. Yet still I believe in love's possibility, in its presence on the earth; as I believe I can approach the altar on any morning of any day which may be the last and receive the touch that does not, for me, say: There is no death; but does say: In this instant I recognize, with you, that you must die. And I believe I can do this in an ordinary kitchen with an ordinary woman and five eggs. The woman sets the table She watches me beat the eggs. I scramble them in a saucepan, as my now-dead friend taught me; they stand deeper and cook softer, he said. I take our plates, spoon eggs on them, we sit and eat. She and I and the kitchen have become extraordinary; we are not simply eating; we are pausing in the march to perform an act together, we are in love; and the meal offered and received is a sacrament which says: I know you will die; I am sharing food with you; it is all I can do, and it is everything. ~ Andre Dubus

They drain you sometimes. They really do.

"What's it all about then mate? What's the secret of life? You should know. You're a fucking cab driver."

Yeah, right. (As if I'll learn the secret of life talking to arseholes like you all night).

"Got any saucepan lids, mate? I've got two. I hate them. Bastards, they are. Ruined my life. I hate the bastards."

I keep quiet

"Don't try and rip us off, mate. I've got a key between my knuckles."

(Whatever).

The life of a cab driver. Glimpses into other people's lives. ~ Karl Wiggins

The most used piece of kit in my kitchen is my saucepan. I use it every morning to cook my porridge in. The least used piece of equipment? I'd say a food mixer. I've never used it, I don't really know what they're for. ~ David Walliams

But how do we know it's really you? I mean, I could put a saucepan on my head and call myself the God of Boiled Dumplings; wouldn't mean I was telling the truth. ~ K.J. Parker

"Next," said Mrs Wilfer with a wave of her gloves, expressive of abdication under protest from the culinary throne, "I would recommend examination of the bacon in the saucepan on the fire, and also of the potatoes by the application of a fork. Preparation of the greens will further become necessary if you persist in this unseemly demeanour." ~ Charles Dickens

Candied Almonds Serves 8 1/2 cup water 1 cup sugar 1 Tbs cinnamon 2 cups whole almonds 1. Combine the water, sugar, & cinnamon in a saucepan over medium heat; bring to a boil; add the almonds. Cook & stir the mixture until the liquid evaporates & leaves a syrup-like coating on the almonds. 2. Pour the almonds onto a baking sheet lined with waxed paper. Separate almonds using forks. Allow to cool about 15 minutes. ~ Lampie Oliveira

The Big Dipper wheels on its bowl. In years hence it will have stopped looking like a saucepan and will resemble a sugar scoop as the earth continues to wobble and the dipper's seven stars speed in different directions. ~ Ann Zwinger

Place a lump of fresh butter in a pan or egg dish and let it melt - that is, just enough for it to spread, and never, of course, to crackle or sit; open a very fresh egg onto a small plate or saucer and slide it carefully into the pan; cook it on heat so low that the white barely turns creamy, and the yolk becomes hot but remains liquid; in a separate saucepan, melt another lump of fresh butter; remove the egg onto a lightly heated serving plate; salt it and pepper it, then very gently pour this fresh, warm butter over it ~ Fernand Point

The demon at length fell to singing a gentle, flickering little song. It was not in any language Sophie knew - or she thought not, until she distinctly heard the word "saucepan" in it several times ... ~ Diana Wynne Jones

Erm.. dear, do I ride out for Apocalypses?' Mrs War took the lid off the saucepan and prodded viciously at something inside. 'No, dear,' she said firmly. 'You always come down with a cold. ~ Terry Pratchett

1 cup milk (more or less, depending on how thick you like your oatmeal) ½ cup quick-cook rolled oats ¼ cup canned pumpkin puree ¼ teaspoon pumpkin pie spice ¼ teaspoon cinnamon ¼ teaspoon salt ½ banana, sliced ¼ cup walnuts, chopped 2 tablespoons maple syrup Whipped cream (optional) Bring the milk to a boil in a saucepan. Add the oats, then stir in the pumpkin, spices, and salt. Cook, stirring constantly, about 2 minutes (or as indicated by the package directions on the rolled oats). Pour the oatmeal into a bowl and add sliced banana, walnuts, maple syrup, and whipped cream (if desired). ~ Jordan Reid

Mandelstam was, one is tempted to say, a modern Orpheus: sent to hell, he never returned, while his widow dodged across one-sixth of the earth's surface, clutching the saucepan with his songs rolled up inside, memorizing them by night in the event they were found by Furies with a search warrant. These are our metamorphoses, our myths. ~ Joseph Brodsky