My last refuge, my books: simple pleasures, like finding wild onions by the side of a road, or requited love.

Like the layers of an onion, under the first lie is another, and under that another, and they all make you cry.

The onion tribe is prophylactic and highly invigorating, and even more necessary to cookery than parsley itself.

To me, onions are the metaphor for kitchen drudgery. Cutting them is hard to do well, and they fight you the whole way.

If you like comedy, go home and curl up with Leviticus. The writers of The Onion are handed Leviticus on their first day.

I'm Irish, so I'm used to odd stews. I can take it. Just throw a lot of carrots and onions in there and I'll call it dinner.

I just do my own thing, and my flower continues to blossom like one of those delicious Bloomin' Onions from Outback Steakhouse.

Indeed, you become what you eat. In which case I am an onion. Layered, slightly sour and guaranteed to bring tears to the eyes.

When ramps are in season, we pickle a bunch of ramps and fold that into soup. Pickled pearl onions are great chopped up or pureed.

People are mostly layers of violence and tenderness wrapped like bulbs, and it is difficult to say what makes them onions or hyacinths.

Titchy little snapperwhippers like you should not be higgling around with an old sage and onions who is hundreds of years more than you.

I never felt ostracized or made to feel strange by obsessing over The Onion or Calvin and Hobbes. That was considered completely normal.

Heaven is a bowl of creamed herring and onions. Ditto whitefish salad. But the real object of my desire for all things gilled is gefilte fish.

I use those medical gloves that fit very tightly and are disposable for all chopping - peppers, onions, garlic, etc. Very Lady Macbeth, I think.

Another way I like to barbecue king salmon is as a whole fish stuffed, literally to the gills, with sweet onions, sliced lemons, and summer sage.

As I see it, a green salad is an open invitation to carrots, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, and the sprouts that grow in jars on my kitchen counter.

My first memory is being taken for Indian food at the Cookham Tandoori on the High Street - I remember the poppadoms, the onions, the chicken tikka.

I've learned that ayahuasca works in levels, a little like peeling an onion. It is complex and something you really have to experience to understand.

I pretty much eat at home all the time, so it's either eggs and sausage, scrambled together, throw some cheese on it, or some bell peppers and onions.

Happy is said to be the family which can eat onions together. They are, for the time being, separate, from the world, and have a harmony of aspiration.

Cigars should be like onions," she said, unfastening the catch and pushing back the pane. "Either the whole company does, or the whole company does not.

Government is like an onion. To understand it, you have to peel through many different layers. Most outsiders never get beyond the first or second layer.

Doing the weekly shopping, I stock up on stir-fry kits, Amy's meatless burgers, and armloads of onions and garlic. I put onions and garlic in everything.

My Mexican specialty is chilaquiles. I make tortillas from scratch, then add garlic, onions, eggs, chopped-up carrots and peppers, Jack cheese, and salsa.

The universe is simmering down, like a giant stew left to cook for four billion years. Sooner or later we won’t be able to tell the carrots from the onions.

The trouble with crying over an onion is that once the chopping gets you started and the tears begin to well up, the next thing you know you just can’t stop!

You cannot escape where you come from, September. Some part of it remains inside you always, like the slender white heart in the center of the thickest onion.

When you start peeling the onion and uncovering layers and layers of inequity that have been subsidized by government, it makes a lot of people uncomfortable.

Anything more low, obscene, feculent, the manifold heaving's of history have not cast up. We shall come to the worship of onions, cats and things vermiculite.

Salbitxada is a sharp and lightly sweet Catalan sauce that's traditionally served with calcots - spring or salad onions, grilled whole, make a good substitute.

I love a jar of cockles. I love anything in vinegar - beetroot, little silverskin onions, cornichons - I'm forever grazing on stuff like that, fingers in a jar.

For lunch I like corned beef, white rice and fried onions, which I've eaten for as long as I can remember. My father used to make it; now, no one does it like me.

For me, I start at the place that my characters are human. I start at the place that they are onions that are layered and meant to be peeled, just as we as human beings are.

I lived with a ninja once: a black guy with dreads who smelled like onions and garlic. He had a magic sword. Whenever you touched the sword, he knew about it. I don't know how.

The Onion Field, that one got pretty close to me because I was a cop when it happened. I saw some of the indifference that my police department showed to the surviving officer.

All I know is that you can chop up all the onions and the whatevers you want and put it on top of caviar, but you still can't disguise the fact that you're eating fish eggs. Ugh!

It had more layers than an onion. These writers meant business. There was a level for everybody. Your major could be celestial mechanics, and there'd be celestial-mechanics jokes.

I've became a coffee drinker since I gave up boxing. I also love to eat anything cooked by a Jamaican. Carbs like rice, yellow yam, Renta yam, sweet yam. Also salt fish fried with onions.

My grandmothers are full of memories, smelling of soap and onions and wet clay, with veins rolling roughly over quick hands, they have many clean words to say, my grandmothers were strong.

In university, in a vain attempt to stave off the frosh fifteen, I used to melt fat-free cheese over broccoli, onions and cauliflower in the cafeteria microwave. That earned me few friends.

The beauty of doing a series is that, over the course of time, it's like peeling an onion. You're able to reveal these layers, more and more. You just don't want to reveal too much, too soon.

I do not like onions. It's so funny because I am probably one of the least picky eaters ever. Pretty much any type of new food, I'll try it, I'll eat it. But onions, and pork. Pork and onions.

A good hamburger mix: add equal parts black pepper, granulated garlic, grilled onion, onion powder and some chopped onion. And mix in a little barbecue sauce, which will add even more great flavor.

When our employees walk in in the morning, they see food. They have to cook. At the restaurants, we chop cilantro, onions, and limes two or three times a day. We make guacamole from fresh avocados.

Everything I do, I do on the principle of Russian borscht. You can throw everything into it beets, carrots, cabbage, onions, everything you want. What's important is the result, the taste of the borscht.

My mother has told so many times the unbelievable story of how, as a toddler, I would demand raw onions and eat them like apples, I think that, at this juncture, it is a story that just has to be believed.

I often want things to make definite statements. If I order onions sliced thinly on my hamburger, I don't want them to come out sort of medium. But that doesn't mean it's a reasonable desire, in all things.

There is a charm in making a stew, to the unaccustomed cook, from the excitement of wondering what the result will be, and whether any flavour save that of onions will survive the competition in the mixture.

My favorite comfort food would have be braised beef. You know, beef, slow-cooked in a Dutch oven or in a slow cooker until it falls apart with simple mushrooms, some onions and lots of fresh thyme and garlic.

I'm always thirsty when I wake up, so I guzzle a bottle of Smart water before I scramble tofu with onions, peppers and spinach and top it with salsa. I've been a vegetarian for years, but I recently became vegan.

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