Bread And Butter Quotes

“Jerry took a large slice of wheaten bread, spread with golden butter, and bit into it with her small white teeth. It was a natural gesture - she was very hungry indeed - but to Sam, there was something symbolic about it. Jerry was like bread, he thought. She was like good wholesome wheaten bread, spread thick with honest farm butter; and the thought crossed his mind, that a man might eat bread forever and ever, and not tire of it, and it would never clog his palate like sweet cakes or pastries or chocolate éclairs. ”
― D.E. Stevenson, Miss Buncle Married

“It was the best omelet Adrienne had ever eaten. Perfectly cooked so that the eggs were soft and buttery. Filled with sautéed onions and mushrooms and melted Camembert cheese. There were three roasted cherry tomatoes on the plate, skins splitting, oozing juice. Nutty wheat toast. Thatch had brought butter and jam to the table. The butter was served like a tiny cheesecake on a small pedestal under a glass dome. The jam was apricot, homemade, served from a Ball jar.”
― Elin Hilderbrand, The Blue Bistro

“The stew had been made with chunks of beef, potatoes, and turnips simmered in burgundy wine until they melted at the lightest pressure of the tongue. There was a salad of crisp lettuce greens and chopped mint leaves, and wedges of cottage bread, the interior laced with holes to catch every drop of salted butter.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Disguise

“Like butter spread on bread, spread love, joy and laughter.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

“We are eating warm bread slathered in cold butter and topped with salty anchovies, one of those three-ingredient Italian constructions- a shopping list more than a recipe- that can stop a conversation in its tracks.”
― Matt Goulding, Pasta, Pane, Vino: Deep Travels Through Italy's Food Culture

“Bread, milk and butter are of venerable antiquity. They taste of the morning of the world.
----LEIGH HUNT”
― Hillary Manton Lodge, Reservations for Two

“There comes a point in your life when you need to stop eating other people's bread and make your own! - Chris Geiger”
― Chris Geiger

“She looked up to see a knob of canary-yellow butter being carried towards her in a glass-lidded container.
'All this butter just for me, when there's a national shortage...'
Hearing Rika mumbling these words, the maitre d' smiled and lifted the lid of the dish.
'This butter had been flown in especially from overseas. Pleas help yourself to as much as you'd like.'
Confronted with an overwhelming selection of different kinds of bread on the trolley, Rika chose the simplest option she could see--- a piece of baguette. Once again, she thought that she should have come with Reiko. Reiko would have told her which to choose. Rika spread a thick layer of butter on the bread. The butter, of a firmness that would break apart slowly on the tongue, went sinking into the crumb of the baguette. That alone was enough to make Rika glad she'd come.
The next course to be served was a chilled dish of avocado and snow crab stacked delicately like layer cake, topped with a generous helping of caviar. The acidity of the pomegranate seeds that exploded juicily in her mouth accentuated the creamy richness of the avocado and the sweetness of the crab flesh. Their unabashed scarlet hue brought the color palette of the whole plate to life. Chased by the champagne, the taste of the crab and the caviar expanded like light suffusing her mouth.”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter

“The purpose of our activities on earth must go beyond bread and butter or merely surviving.”
― Sunday Adelaja

“Jude smiles and explains things much more personably than I, slicing and toasting thick pillows of cinnamon-coated raisin and offering that to people, topped with a pool of melted cultured butter, fresh from the farm down the way. The day tourists find this quaint; the green eaters, sustainable and local; and the rest happy to have something sweet now that the sticky buns are gone. Everyone is smiling, and I wonder if Jude can also turn water into some sort of fermented beverage.”
― Christa Parrish, Stones For Bread

“I tried to read the menu, but I kept getting distracted. The aromas from the kitchen filled the room- melting butter, grilling meat, soft and sharp spices. All of them better than any of the restaurant smells I'd had to pass by during my time in the city. My mouth was watering, and my nose was so focused that I could barely skim the first few items.
Sablefish with miso glaze
Duck, dry-aged and served with pureed butternut squash
Wagyu New York strip
I had no idea what these things were, except for duck, which I couldn't help but feel sorry for. Dry-aged sounded like an especially bad death for a waterfowl.
The waiter returned. "Shall I order for us?" Victoria asked. I nodded, grateful. "Anything you don't eat? Allergies?"
I shook my head. Nobody had ever asked me that before. On the island, I'd eaten what I gathered. At the cove, I ate what came to the table. Now I'd eat anything that didn't involve the jar in my backpack.
"We'll start with the clam chowder," Victoria said. "We can order more later." The waiter nodded respectfully and disappeared again. "They make it with fresh clams," she told me. "It's exceptional."
A young woman with a fancy braid in her hair brought us a basket of French bread, still warm from the oven. I watched as Victoria spread one slice with butter that melted as she applied it, releasing the faintest scent of flowers.
"Here," she said, handing it to me. The crust gave way under my teeth with a delicate crunch, the butter soft on my tongue. It tasted even better than it smelled. After almost two weeks of hard mattresses and strangers and failure, I wanted to crawl inside the comfort of this bread and stay there forever.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The Scent Keeper

“Dot slapped the loaf down onto the table along with more of the same delicious-looking butter Marianne had provided, and honey this time. No rations in this part of the world. She spread the butter thinly, not wanting to appear greedy.
"Give it here." Dot grabbed the knife from her and spread the butter about half an inch thick. "We don't stand on ceremony." Then she put a dollop of honey in the middle and tipped the bread until it drizzled to the very edge. "Can't have you dying of starvation in the middle of the common."
Highly unlikely that would happen. She wouldn't fit into any of her clothes if she kept eating this way.”
― Tea Cooper, The Woman in the Green Dress

“His mode of speaking was largely incomprehensible, his tone was portentous, which is perhaps why he inevitably spoke in capital letters. Words existed in his speech as currants in a badly made bread-and-butter pudding - clusters of stodgy darkness”
― Richard Flanagan, Gould's Book of Fish: A Novel in Twelve Fish

“Tea & Toast by Stewart Stafford

Let me stop in this lay-by a moment,
That I have tagged - Tea & Toast,
A shimmering oasis frequented often,
A soothing elixir one loves the most.

It's as comforting as a warm bath,
Enjoyed even when wracked with pain,
As welcome as an old friend's smile,
On thundery days of lashing rain.

No matter if the tea is too sweet or burns,
Greasy butter hijacked by sandpaper crumbs,
There shall be no Boston Tea Party here,
Our minuscule parole from routine doldrums.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“I reached into the cabinet for one of the many empty plastic storage bowls I kept there and scooped out ham and potato corn chowder. The chowder was more of a winter soup, perfect for the leftover ham bones from Thanksgiving through Easter, but I continued to make it because children liked corn and potatoes and ham. I'd made this pot with Jordy in mind, so I scooped out most of it and pressed the lid closed. Next, I slathered butter on the yeast rolls I'd kept in the warmer and wrapped them in tin foil. I double plastic-bagged the bowl and put the bread on top before handing it to him. There was enough to last them two or three days.”
― Rhonda McKnight, Bitter and Sweet

“The owner comes back, makes tea for them and says, 'I'm sorry I only have bread, butter, and cucumbers,' but Anne and Diana are so starving that the bread, butter, and cucumbers taste delicious. And it really does sound delicious. I don't know that much about Anne of Green Gables, or about novels in general, but that scene really stands out for me, the way it describes how wonderful the food tasted... Especially the way it describes the joy of eating."
"You may well be right."
"I thought about this a lot and I believe that the cucumbers mentioned may have been pickled. Though other translations of the book only say it's bread, butter, and cucumbers. But I can't picture them crunching on fresh cucumbers... So anyway, that's how I came up with my own version, which is this. Bread, butter, and cucumber sandwiches. That seemed a bit inadequate, though, so I also made roast chicken sandwiches. I think they must have eaten those as well.”
― Hika Harada, Dinner at the Night Library

“There was something green between slices of soft bread. Otoha took a bite and sure enough the blend of cucumbers and butter leaped out into her mouth, with a simple, yet deep taste.
"Mr. Kinoshita, this is really delicious! It's hard to believe the ingredients are that simple."
"Thanks. I just sliced the cucumbers very thin and rubbed them with salt."
Otoha tried the roast chicken sandwich next.
"This is wonderful too. The chicken is so moist."
"I simply added salt and pepper to the chicken breasts as I roasted them, and then a little French dressing before I put it in the sandwich."
"They're all very simple flavors. You can really savor all the ingredients."
"I think that's how things were back in those times. Plus, I don't think Montgomery, a pastor's wife, would like writing long descriptions of how food tasted."
"That makes sense."
On top of the flat plate of sandwiches was a small dish with green peas.
Otoha tried them and found them softly boiled, with a taste of butter.
"Those are green peas sautéed in butter. I finished them by adding a spoonful of sugar. Do you remember how, when they invited Mrs. Morgan to Green Gables, Anne added too much sugar and spoiled the peas?”
― Hika Harada, Dinner at the Night Library