Venison Stew Quotes

Utensil

While feasting
On venison stew
After we buried my mother,
I recognized my spoon

And realized my family
Had been using it
For at least forty-two years.
How does one commemorate

The ordinary? I thanked
The spoon for being a spoon
And finished my stew.
How does one get through

A difficult time? How does
A son properly mourn his mother?
It helps to run the errands--
To get shit done. I washed

That spoon, dried it,
And put it back
In the drawer,
But I did it consciously,

Paying attention
To my hands, my wrists,
And the feel of steel
Against my fingertips.

Then my wife drove us back
Home to Seattle, where I wrote
This poem about ordinary
Grief. Thank you, poem,

For being a poem. Thank you,
Paper and ink, for being paper
And ink. Thank you, desk,
For being a desk. Thank you,

Mother, for being my mother.
Thank you for your imperfect love.
It almost worked. It mostly worked.
Or partly worked. It was almost enough. ~ Sherman Alexie

Buttercup's mother hesitated, then put her stew spoon down. (This was after stew, but so is everything. When the first man first clambered from the slime and made his first home on land, what he had for supper that first night was stew.) ~ William Goldman

A producer is a man with a dream. I say, 'I don't write, I don't direct, I don't act, I don't compose music, I don't design costumes. What do I do? I make things happen.' A producer is like a chef. You get all the right ingredients together and make a tasty stew. You put the wrong ingredient together, it'll taste bad" David Wolpert ~ Larry Truman

We're coming to the point where I may need to split my men to evade pursuit. If so, my choice of bodyguard for you will depend much on your won abilities."
"Well, I am a fast reader, and I know how to make stew."
Carroll nodded in approval "You've a sense of humor about all this, Lady. You'll need one. You're entering a life of great danger. ~ Erika Johansen

There was always, among them, such a stew of envy and longing. They hated the humans, but they also wanted to be them. They wanted to punish them, and they wanted to be embraced by them. To be accepted, honored, loved, like someone's child. And since they couldn't have any of it, it all took the form of spite. Anyone who has ever been excluded can understand what they felt, and no one has ever been quite so excluded as they. ~ Laini Taylor

Whenever he met him or saw him sitting somewhere - he felt only the sentiment that is generally termed tolerance: a very lukewarm emotional stew of disgust, contempt, and sympathy. ~ Patrick Suskind

I still dream in pictures and color, always the world of my childhood. I see the purple Judas trees at Easter lighting up the roadsides and terraces of the town. Ochre cliffs made of cinnamon powder. Autumn clouds rolling along the ground of the hills, and the patchwork of wet oak leaves on the grass. The shape of a rose petal. And my parents' faces, which will never grow any older.
"But it is strange how scent brings it all back too. I only have to smell certain aromas, and I am back in a certain place with a certain feeling."
The comforting past smelled of heliotrope and cherry and sweet almond biscuits: close-up smells, flowers you had to put your nose to as the sight faded from your eyes. The scents of that childhood past had already begun to slip away: Maman's apron with blotches of game stew; linen pressed with faded lavender; the sheep in the barn. The present, or what had so very recently been the present, was orange blossom infused with hope. ~ Deborah Lawrenson

Thomas Edison held 1,093 patents. He was a great believer in exercising his mind and the minds of his workers and felt that without a quota he probably wouldn't have achieved very much. His personal invention quota was a minor invention every ten days and a major invention every six months. To Edison, an idea quota was the difference between eating beefsteak or a plateful of Black Beauty stew. ~ Michael Michalko

Shergahn and friend lay like poleaxed steers, and the Daranfelian's greasy hair was thick with potatoes, carrots, gravy, and chunks of beef. His companion had less stew in his hair, but an equally large lump was rising fast, and Brandark flipped his improvised club into the air, caught it in proper dipping position, and filled it once more from the pot without even glancing at them. He raised the ladle to his nose, inhaled deeply, and glanced at the cook with an impudent twitch of his ears.
"Smells delicious," he said while the laughter started up all around the fire. "I imagine a bellyful of this should help a hungry man sleep. Why, just look what a single ladle of it did for Shergahn! ~ David Weber

Oh Jesus, Digger on a horse," Kelly said. "He kept threatening to make his horse into stew."
"He named his horse Stu," Nick added. ~ Abigail Roux

The cloth overlay of Billy's cart clucks, and a brown chicken pokes her head out from under the covering, stepping out of the basket she was riding in.

"There is a chicken in your cart."

"I know," Billy snaps, and slaps his napkin across his lap.

"Why is there a chicken in your cart?"

"Because this was supposed to be chicken stew," he says. "I've been hand-feeding this bird for days to be sure it was not poisoned before the fact. And now . . ." He pours Mirabella some water and drinks from her cup. The hen clucks, and Billy tosses down a chunk of bread.

"Now her name is Harriet," he says quietly.

Mirabella laughs. ~ Kendare Blake

You may say, "Oh, no. You can't touch a traditional recipe." But we ask: why can't you? Back in 1350, a vinaigrette was a stew, so we ask, why not? This can be applied to any kind of cooking, and that's the shocking part of it. It kind of bends all the traditions. It's a good thing. ~ Ferran Adria

After she had gone through most of the songs she knew, she sang an old one that she said she had written herself. I'd love to cook a stew for you But I have no pot. I'd love to knit a scarf for you But I have no wool. I'd love to write a poem for you But I have no pen. "It's called 'I Have Nothing,'" Midori announced. It was a truly terrible song, both words and music. I listened to this musical mess with thoughts of how the house would blow apart in the explosion if the gas station caught fire. Tired of singing, Midori put her guitar down and slumped against my shoulder like a cat in the sun. "How did you like my song?" she asked. I answered cautiously, "It was unique and original and very expressive of your personality." "Thanks," she said. "The theme is that I have nothing." "Yeah, I kinda thought so. ~ Haruki Murakami

The camembert with its venison scent defeats the Marolles and Limbourg dull smells; It spreads its exhalation, smothering the other scents under its surprising breath abundance. ~ Emile Zola

Make big pots of soups, stews and chilis - they stretch a buck, and you can live off them for days! ~ Rachael Ray

The same old rain, and, if not welcomed, at least accepted - an old gray aunt who came to visit every winter and stayed till spring. You learn to live with her. You learn to reconcile yourself to the little inconveniences and not get annoyed. You remember she is seldom angry or vicious and nothing to get in a stew about, and if she is a bore and stays overlong you can train yourself not to notice her, or at least not to stew about her. Which ~ Ken Kesey

Gloria put a bowl of stew in Peter's hands. "Eat," she said.

Peter raised the spoon to his lips. He chewed. He swallowed.

It had been a long time since he had eaten anything besides tiny fish and old bread.

And so when Peter had his first bite of stew, it overwhelmed him. The warmth of it, the richness of it, knocked him backward; it was as if a gentle hand had pushed him when he was not expecting it. Everything he had lost came flooding back: the garden, his father, his mother, his sister, the promises that he had made and could not keep.

"What's this?" said Gloria Matienne. "The boy is crying."

"Shhh," said Leo. He put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Shhh. Don't worry, Peter. Everything will be good. All will be well. We will do together whatever it is that needs to be done. But for now, you must eat."

Peter nodded. He raised his spoon. Again he chewed and swallowed, and again he was overcome. He could not help it. He could not stop the tears; they flowed down his cheeks and into the bowl. "It is a very good stew, Madam Matienne. he managed to say. "Truly, it is an excellent stew. ~ Kate DiCamillo

It was good to get a few days off after the number of games we had. Now it's back to reality. ~ Stew Morrill

Get to the Point: Vampire Contributions in Western Architecture. Fangs and Balances: Vampire Politicians in History. To Drink or Not to Drink: A Vampire Dialectic. Blood Sausage, Blood Stew, Blood Orange: Food for All Seasons. And the awfully named Plasmatlas, which contained maps of important vampire locales. ~ Chloe Neill

The day wore on.While yet Rycca slept, Dragon did all the things she had said he would do-paced back and forth, contemplated mayhem,and even honed his blade on the whetstone from the stable.All except being oblivious to her,for that he could never manage.
But when she awoke,sitting up heavy-lidded, her mouth so full and soft it was all he could do not to crawl back into bed with her,he put aside such pursuits and controlled himself admirably well,so he thought.
Yet in the midst of preparing a meal for them from the provisions in the pantry of the lodge,he was stopped by Rycca's hand settling upon his.
"Dragon," she said softly, "if you add any more salt to that stew, we will need a barrel of water and more to drink with it."
He looked down, saw that she was right, and cursed under his breath. Dumping out the spoiled stew, he started over. They ate late but they did eat.He was quite determined she would do so,and for once she seemed to have a decent appetite.
"I'm glad to see your stomach is better," he said as she was finishing.
She looked up,startled. "What makes you say that?"
"You haven't seemed able to eat regularly of late."
"Oh,well,you know...so many changes...travel...all that."
He nodded,reached for his goblet, and damn near knocked it over as a sudden thought roared through him.
"Rycca?"
She rose quickly,gathering up the dishes. His hand lashed out, closing on her wrist. Gently but inexorably, he returned her t ~ Josie Litton

Beef stew and biscuits?!" I thought to myself, outraged. He couldn't even say hello? I looked down at my silky black dress and high heeled shoes and suddenly felt very foolish. I had been passed over for beef stew and biscuits. ~ Amy Harmon

If you take cranberries and stew them like apple sauce, it tastes much more like prunes than rhubarb does. ~ Groucho Marx

Simply put, a woman's brain is not her friend when it comes to confidence. We think too much and we think about the wrong things. Thinking harder and harder and harder won't solve our issues, though, it won't make us more confident, and it most certainly freezes decision making, not to mention action. Remember, the female brain works differently from the male brain; we really do have more going on, we are more keenly aware of everything happening around us, and that all becomes part of our cognitive stew. Ruminating drains the confidence from us. Those negative thoughts, and nightmare scenarios masquerading as problem solving, spin on an endless loop. We render ourselves unable to be in the moment or to trust our instincts because we are captive to those distracting, destructive thoughts, which gradually squeeze all the spontaneity out of life and work. We have got to stop ruminating. ~ Katty Kay

Once envy reveals itself for what it is, the only solution is often to flee the presence of the enviers, leaving them to stew in a hell of their own creation. ~ Robert Greene

Genre fiction, as Terry Pratchett has pointed out, is a stew. You take stuff out of the pot, you put stuff back. The stew bubbles on. ~ Neil Gaiman

I had all kinds of allergy problems with certain meats, and with fruits and vegetables with pesticides. So I turned to bear, caribou, venison, hippopotamus, buffalo, elk and moose. Taste-wise, buffalo and elk are tied for first. Not gamy, and loaded with protein. And very expensive, I might add. ~ Billy Casper

Our kitchens are filled with ghosts. You may not see them, but you could not cook as you do without their ingenuity: the potters who first enabled us to boil and stew; the knife forgers; the resourceful engineers who designed the first refrigerators; the pioneers of gas and electric ovens; the scale makers; the inventors of eggbeaters and peelers. ~ Bee Wilson

The key to having good scales is a healthy diet of venison when you're just a wee dragon lad. ~ Sully Tarnish

Venison and venery defeated me. ~ Benjamin Franklin

Eat, my lady.I will come back shortly and you will be released to see to your needs."
Startled, Rycca said the first thing that came into her mind. "I think you, but you must not do this, Magda. I would not see trouble brought down upon you."
The older woman straightened slowly, a look of worry on her gentle face. She hesitated but finally said, "Do not be concerned about that,my lady." Then she was gone,back into the fog.
Rycca sighed deeply. She had one friend at least,so it seemed,and for that she was grateful. But gratitude did not unto the huge knot in her stomach and make it possible for her to eat. Not even the delectable aroma of Magda's stew could tempt her. She set the bowl aside and burrowed deeper into the blankets. They,at least,offered warmth.
She wasn't eating. Dammit, she needed to do that to stay warm. There was no telling how long this could go on. On the verge of sending Magda back to try again, Dragon reconsidered. The serving woman had followed his instructions precisely. If this was to have any chance of working,he could not appear overly concerned. As it was, he was taking a chance staying so near. From his position near a corner of the stable,he could see the post through the fog but,he hoped,could not be seen himself.The sight of Rycca tied there tore at him. Not even a stern reminder that she might truly be guilty helped. He simply could not bring himself to believe it. ~ Josie Litton

William's weekend with his friends, Geoffrey and Maggie, was turning out to be neither restful nor enjoyable. Things could have been worse, of course: there must be weekends during which the hosts' house burns to the ground, one of the guests murders another, the hostess is arrested in extradition proceedings or the guests are all poisoned by the inclusion of death's cap mushrooms in the stew. Such weekends must be very difficult indeed, not least because of the wording of the thank-you letters that one would have to write. The disaster, whatever it was, could hardly be ignored, but must be referred to tactfully in the letter, and always set in proper perspective. Thus, in the case of the mushroom poisoning, one would comment on how the other courses of the meal were delicious; in the case of the hostess's arrest, one would say something comforting about the ability of defence lawyers in the jurisdiction to which she was being extradited - and so on, mutatis mutandis, trying at all times to be as positive as possible. ~ Alexander McCall Smith

To meditate, stew, and brew on too many negative thoughts, distorts and super-sizes offenses and causes anger. ~ Stephen L. Bowen

Humans were the only creatures in the world that ate their food cooked. You'd never find a Gorilla frying up some bananas for dinner or a lion charcoal-broiling a zebra steak. Cats don't often run to the oven with a mouse or bird they've captured, and a dog wouldn't naturally prepare its rabbit dinner in a stew. ~ Dick Gregory

No matter what were the situations,
No matter what were the surroundings,
You have become what you chose to be (even if it was choosing nothing).
Isn't that cool enough to be yourself than to stew over what you did.
Until you turn around, remember, shadows will not leave you. ~ Mahendar Singh Jakhar

I can't believe I was juiced when they cast her to play me. Please-body," Peabody muttered. "She didn't have any respect for me at all. I wish I'd known what a crappy human being she was before she got dead. I'd have shown her a Pleasebody."
"How long do you figure you're going to stew over this?"
"Awhile. I've never worked on a vic I wished I'd punched in the face before somebody killed her. I've been working on my hand-to-hand. ~ J.D. Robb

These short stories establish Sontag's originality ... her unique vision, her success with experiments in the form ... Sontag makes a wonderful stew of the past, the life caught in memory and imagination, serves it all up lavishly laced with silences, and provides us with a gourmand's series of short courses. ~ Doris Grumbach

I pointed to it.
"Yuca," Noah said.
I pointed to the dough balls.
"Fried plantains."
I pointed to a low bowl filled with what purported to be stew, but then Noah said, "Are you going to point, or are you going to eat? ~ Michelle Hodkin

Since it was there, Larkin got another bowl, spooned up stew for himself.
"He fights with us. We're an army."
"An army? Talk about delusions of grandeur. What are you?" she asked Glenna.
"Witch."
"So, we've got a witch, a sorcerer, a couple of refugees from Geall and a vampire. Some army. ~ Nora Roberts

Remember guls," preached Mrs. Gulbenk, always holding the most perfect red tomato in her hand for all of us to admire, "you can fry 'em, bake 'em, stew 'em, and congeal 'em. A good wife and mutha will always have a tomata on hand.: ~ Susan Gregg Gilmore

That's true," the male officer said. "Stew Mitchum is as cute as a button."
I tried to think of buttons I'd seen that liked to torture small animals, but I couldn't. ~ Lemony Snicket

The Pythagoreans, you have to remember, were extremely weird. Their philosophy was a chunky stew of things we'd now call mathematics, things we'd now call religion, and things we'd now call mental illness. ~ Jordan Ellenberg

A monster lies in wait in me,
A stew of wounds and misery,
But fiercer still in life and limb,
The me that lies in wait in him. ~ Clive Barker