Butter Quotes

“ The seafood is so fresh it is otherworldly! Their rich umami flavors swirl together in my mouth like a whirlpool!
The pike is transcendental fresh, yes? It's tender and fatty and melty sweet!"
"I'm impressed he had the strength to cram this much powerful umami into a single dish! So refined, yet utterly savage. Ryo Kurokiba has reached a new pinnacle!"
"That looks sooo good!"
"But still, do all Japan pike have this much flavor in season?"
"Good point. Not all do.
How did he manage to create this strong of a flavor while using hardly any seasonings?
Hm?
Wait... it's faint, but I smell hints of a refreshing scent. A scent that is not seafood!"
"It is the fragrance of herbs."
"Exactly! I added a pat of this to the dish!"
"Aha!
Herb butter!
Finely chopped herbs and spices are mixed into softened butter...
... and then wrapped up and chilled in the refrigerator for a day to allow the flavors to meld."
"I stuck a pat of homemade herb butter into each wrap right before I put 'em in the oven. Baking on low heat made the butter melt slowly...
... allowing its richness to seep into every nook and cranny of the entire dish!"
Both flavor and fragrance have the punch of an exploding warhead! What an impeccably violent dish!”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 12 [Shokugeki no Souma 12]

“Life isn't life without real butter.”
― Adrienne Posey

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

“It is as sweet as early grass butter in April.”
― Herman Melville, Moby Dick

“The salmon is perfectly cooked. The trace amounts of sugar contained in the wheat flour have combined with the butter in a chemical reaction that's creating a wonderful fragrance. It was all fried together for precisely the right amount of time to create a superb Meunière."
"The squid liver was quickly sautéed in a dollop of butter as well, taking a bite of that with the Meunière is sublime! The butter's flavor gently wraps around the salty and pleasantly bitter taste of the liver, giving it a beautifully mellow body."
"He added pomegranate seeds and tonburi to the soy sauce marinated roe! Those three completely disparate flavors meld into a seamless whole thanks to butter! Not only does it have an amusing texture, the roe doesn't have its typical greasiness either!"
*Tonburi, also called land caviar, is the seeds of the summer cypress plant. It's texture is similar to caviar.*
He's used mounds of butter in so many different facets of the dish, but it somehow hasn't made the flavor heavy at all. The secret to that lies in the bed of special sushi rice hidden underneath the seafood!
"This sushi rice was made not with vinegar but with orange juice and lemon juice!"
"So that's why he was squeezing that mountain of oranges!"”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 28 [Shokugeki no Souma 28]

“The tofu pocket is soaked with butter, every bite of it drenching the lips...
... sending rich waves gushing through the mouth. Just one taste is enough to seep both tongue and mind in a thick flood of butter!
"The tofu pocket is so juicy it's nearly dripping, yet it hasn't drowned the filling at all. The rice is delectably fluffy and delicate, done in true pilaf style, with the grains separate, tender and not remotely sticky. Simmered in fragrant chicken broth, the prawns give it a delightful crunch, while ample salt and pepper boost both its flavor and aroma!"
"The whole dish is strongly flavored, but it isn't the least bit heavy or sticky. The deliciousness of every ingredient, wrapped in a cloak of rich butter, wells up with each bite like a gushing, savory spring! How on earth did you manage to create this powerful a flavor?!"
"Well, first I sautéed the rice for the pilaf without washing it- one of the major rules of pilafs! If you wash all the starch off the rice, the grains get crumbly and the whole thing can wind up tasting tacky instead of tender. Then I thoroughly rinsed the tofu pockets with hot water to wash off the extra oil so they'd soak up the seasonings better.
But the biggest secret to the whole thing...
... was my specially made Mochi White Sauce!
Normal white sauce is made with lots of milk, butter and flour, making it really thick and heavy. But I made mine using only soy milk and mochi, so it's still rich and creamy without the slightest hint of greasiness. In addition, I sprinkled a blend of several cheeses on top of everything when I put it in the oven to toast. They added some nice hints of mellow saltiness to the dish without making it too heavy!
Basically, I shoved all the tasty things I could think of into my dish...
... pushing the rich, savory flavor as hard as I could until it was just shy of too much... and this is the result!"
Some ingredients meld with the butter's richness into mellow deliciousness...
... while others, sautéed in butter, have become beautifully savory and aromatic. Into each of these little inari sushi pockets has gone an immense amount of work across uncountable steps and stages.
Undaunted by Mr. Saito's brilliant dish, gleaming with the fierce goodness of seafood...
each individual ingredient is loudly and proudly declaring its own unique deliciousness! ”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 28 [Shokugeki no Souma 28]

“I can see Mr. Yukihira is sautéing cubed chicken, diced onion, prawns and uncooked rice in his.
He filled the frying pan with the gentle flavor of butter, and he's now softly wrapping it around each and every one of his ingredients!
On the other hand, Mr. Saito heated some garlic slices in oil until fragrant...
... and then added his butter together with soy sauce, cuttlefish and cuttlefish liver.
The unique and luxuriantly salty smell of the bounty of the sea is being taken to even greater heights with the rich scent of butter!”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 27 [Shokugeki no Souma 27]

“Hoping to ground herself, Rosie closed her eyes and thought of butter, the way other people probably pictured relaxing tropical idylls. Her favorite thing in the world was creaming butter and sugar, watching the way two disparate ingredients come together to form something new. She could picture it in her mind, back in the kitchen at home: the soft pale yellow of the butter, the old wooden spoon, and the cracked brown mixing bowl. Butter was magic. The starting point for cookies and cake and pie and muffins and everything good.”
― Stephanie Kate Strohm, Love à la Mode

“It was a standard white-bread hot dog bun oozing with orangey-pink lobster meat, dotted with tiny slices of celery ribs, and held together by globs of creamy mayonnaise. "Careful," Jaime warned, stretching the plate out closer to Hazel's lap. "It's sort of a two-hand situation."
Hazel brought the soggy roll to her mouth and bit down at one end. A mouthful of buttery, lemony goodness greeted her, and she swooned. "S'good," she mumbled, wiping the corners of her mouth. It wasn't just good. It was heavenly and tasted exactly the way she'd always thought that summer should.”
― Alexandra Bullen, Wishful Thinking

“That knife! It looks similar to a machete-like weapon used in India- the Kukri!
He's using it to chop leeks, ginger and some herbs...
Which he's tossing into a pot of rich chicken stock!"
"Ah! Now he's grinding his spices!"
Cross!
"What?! He's crossing different implements in every step of his recipe?! Can he even do that?!"
"I recognize that mortar and pestle. It's the kind they use in India to grind spices."
"Oh gosh... I can already smell the fragrance from here!"
He clearly knows just how much to grind each spice...
... and to toast each in a little oil to really bring out its fragrance!
"Ah, I see! What he has steaming on that other burner is shark fin!"
"From Indian cuisine, we dive straight into something very Chinese!
Cross! Saiba x Mò Liú Zhâo!"
"What the heck? He's stroking the fin...
... quickly running the claws along its grain!"
Ah! I see what he's doing! Shark fin by itself is flavorless. Even in true Chinese cuisine...
...it's simmered in Paitan stock or oyster sauce first to give it a stronger, more concentrated umami punch.
But by using those claws, he can't skip that step...
... and directly infuse the fin with umami flavor compounds!
"Saiba...
Cross..."
"Aaaah! That implement! I recognize that one!
Eishi Tsukasa!"
Tsukasa Senpai's Super-Sized Grater-Sword!
"He took a huge lump of butter...
... and is grating it down into shavings at unbelievable speed!"”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 35 [Shokugeki no Souma 35]

“You've brought out your best butter." [you're laying on the flattery thickly]”
― Agatha Christie, The Seven Dials Mystery

“Can you grab the butter out of the fridge?"
It was as hard as a rock. She tried pressing her fingertips into its surface, leaving shallow indentations in the foil wrapper as the butter yielded little. "I'll need to wait for this to soften."
"You can grate it."
"Like, with a cheese grater? Really?"
Nate nodded. "A trick I learned from my mom. Works like a charm."
"Huh, who knew?”
― Karma Brown, Recipe for a Perfect Wife

“Sarah's first introduction was the signature sugardoodle. Big, billowy, and buttery, sparkling with a generous coating of sugar crystals and cinnamon, it has the perfect savory-sweet balance that comes from creamed butter and sugar. When she created it, the bakery's cookie menu was dominated by chocolaty options. She was looking to add something with a different flavor profile. Then, for the 2013 holiday season, she was playing with recipe ideas that would evoke nostalgia and home baking and struck upon the ginger spice cookie, a soft, sweet molasses number with the bite of ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg. It was so popular it stuck around beyond the holidays and became a year-round best seller. Then came the killer red velvet. Rich from cocoa, savory from a cream-cheese center, and crunchy from its sugar-dusted top, it gives red velvet lovers a whole new creation to die for.”
― Amy Thomas, Brooklyn in Love: A Delicious Memoir of Food, Family, and Finding Yourself

“He chopped a garlic, set a pot of water to boil on the stove, and poured a healthy amount of kosher salt into it. He threw the garlic in a pan of olive oil and let it sizzle for just a minute before taking it off the heat. The smell began to relax all of them and Gretchen and Jane settled themselves at his counter and watched him cook. He poured them both large glasses of red wine and watched as their bodies physically relaxed. He could see the tightness in Jane's jaw go away and he smiled. It was hard to feel bad about the world when the air smelled like garlic, when pasta and cheese were being prepared, when you had a good glass of red.
Sautéed garlic could save the world.


"I call this my bad day pasta," he told them. "It's a carbonara-cacio e pepe hybrid. Tons of cheese and salt and pepper." He cut off two slices of Parmesan and handed one to each of them. He knew the crunchy crystals and salt would go great with the wine. He whisked the egg and stirred in the cheese. He reserved some pasta water. He cranked his pepper mill. He swirled the pasta into a warm bowl as he added the egg mixture until it was shiny and coated.
Jane took a sip of her wine and watched Teddy. "Mike doesn't eat pasta," she said. Teddy took three shallow bowls out of his cabinet and set them on the table. He distributed the pasta among them, sprinkled them with extra cheese and pepper.
"Anyone who doesn't eat pasta is suspect in my book," he said.
"Amen," Gretchen said.”
― Jennifer Close, Marrying the Ketchups

“Butter tea has been known for centuries to improve health in people exposed to high altitudes.”
― Steven Magee, Hypoxia, Mental Illness & Chronic Fatigue

“The first thing Rika felt was a strange breeze emanating from the back of her throat. The cold butter first met the roof of her mouth with a chilly sensation, contrasting with the steaming rice in both texture and temperature. The cool butter clashed against her teeth, and she felt its soft texture right down into their roots. Soon enough, just as Kaiji had said, the melted butter began to surge through the individual grains of rice. It was a taste that could only be described as golden. A shining golden wave, with an astounding depth of flavor and a faint yet full and rounded aroma, wrapped itself around the rice and washed Rika's body far away.
It was, indeed, a lot like falling. Rika stared down intently at the bowl of rice with butter and soy sauce and let out a long sigh, feeling her breath rich and milky.”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter

“Fish roe and butter makes for a truly exquisite pairing! By adding butter to pollock roe, with its clusters of firm little orbs just like miniature egg yolks, you take away any unpleasant fishiness from the roe, instead producing a sauce with an inexplicable fullness of taste that forms a perfect coating for the carbohydrates, setting off their plumpness and texture like a dream. Perhaps best of all is the pretty pink hue of the roe, like a gorgeous spring evening (you may know by now that pink is my favorite color!). The butter and rosy-colored roe combination coats each and every spaghetti strand, bringing out that delicious semolina scent and generating a flavor that feels like a wave of kindness rising up uncontrollably from inside your chest.”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter

“He opened the small brown bag and held it toward her, and she could smell the butter. Notably, though, there was no grease soaking the bottom of the bag, like when Mom brought home donuts. She peered in.
"I think it's a croissant. And a chocolate croissant. And some kind of roll. And some other thing I didn't know what it was."
"Chausson aux pommes," Rosie said, pulling it from the bag. She was pretty sure anyway- it had the distinctive half-moon shape, and the slashes on top let her see a peek of what looked like apple filling.
"What's that?"
Rosie stilled as Henry shifted closer to her. He was just looking at the pastry, and she knew that, but still. He was close, and he smelled warm, and sleepy. And male.
"It's kind of like an apple croissant," she said, ignoring the rapid rise of her heartbeat. "Or an apple strudel. An apple turnover, I guess."
"Try it."
"You should have the first bite. You got it."
"I insist," Henry said, and he wouldn't take it from her. So she bit in, and the pastry flaked instantly, then yielded into sweet, soft cinnamon apples. It was so good that she had to imagine this would be the best thing she'd try today. But then Henry was grinning, chocolate smeared on his face, and he passed her the pain au chocolat, and she thought that had to be the best thing. But then the classic croissant was so perfect, each layer of lamination distinct, and then the brioche was dangerously rich, yet so light at the same time, and the éclair's filling was perfectly smooth, and the baguette made Rosie rethink what, exactly, the stuff she'd been eating for the last sixteen years was, because it couldn't possibly be bread, not like this...”
― Stephanie Kate Strohm, Love à la Mode

“Up next," Henry said, "we have a play on steak-frites. Steak-frites was the first French food I ever had, at a restaurant down the block from ours, back home in Chicago. My dad took me there." Henry remembered the first time he'd been there, squeezing into the tiny tables, the rare steak and the crisp fries, the smell of garlic and butter, the sense that food could transport you far from Damien Avenue. "I've put my own spin on it by using a bulgogi marinade and kimchi butter on the steak, and instead of fries, those are deep-fried batons of garlic mashed potatoes."
This was one of his favorite kinds of dishes. From the outside, it looked like a traditional steak-frites, with its melting pat of butter on top, and fries that were thicker than usual but still shaped like fries. But then you started eating, and the flavors were different, and the fries were a totally different texture than what you were expecting.”
― Stephanie Kate Strohm, Love à la Mode

“Just because they were homey didn't mean they were ordinary. Most versions of this recipe relied on butterscotch chips, waxy little chunks of hydrogenated oil and synthetic butterscotch flavor. Bev's used malted milk powder and a truckload of butter, relying on the interaction between the oven's heat and the milk powder to give that toasty, caramelized flavor that suggested rather than screamed butterscotch. Melody's version also subbed brown sugar for some of the white with a healthy shot of molasses to add a deep, earthy note. At the last moment, she added some chopped hazelnuts from a little glass jar in the cabinet for extra texture and flavor.
Thoughts of Justin faded as she mixed and spread the batter, then slid the shallow jelly roll pan into the oven where it would bake into a sheet of butterscotchy, nutty deliciousness. When it came out dozens of minutes later, fragrant and golden brown, she inhaled the aroma, basking in her sense of accomplishment at a perfect result. There was nothing like taking basic ingredients and transforming them into something both beautiful and tasty.”
― Carla Laureano, Brunch at Bittersweet Café

“Lobster has an aroma that is not in itself that appealing, more so than most other breeds of seafood. Yet, the lean protein of lobster is always joined by the lurid fats of melted butter, improving the texture and taste of most things, as well as increasing waist and decreasing arteriole width.”
― Thomm Quackenbush, Holidays with Bigfoot

“But she stopped at the third picture, a gorgeous baking tray of golden buttery-topped tiropetes, with a bowl on the side of bright-colored Greek salad with what appeared to be fresh oregano.
It had popped up because she was following #bethesdafood scene.
The caption, written by BoozyCrocker, said:

BoozyCrocker MUST EAT BUTTER. #TheCookbookClub is now open to new members. Foodies, come join us! Three-drink minimum. No skipping dessert. Meet in Bethesda. DM me. No psychos, no diets. #foodporn #saycheese #cheese #feta #musteatbutter #delicious #whenindoubtaddbutter #bethesdafoodscene”
― Beth Harbison, The Cookbook Club: A Novel of Food and Friendship

“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'd left the soon-to-be-blue doors open, and Clementine had let herself in. As we entered the kitchen, I could see her putting the finishing touches on two bowls of something chocolaty.
"What is this?" I asked, taking a closer look.
Clementine finished her plating and stepped back. "Nutella mousse with hazelnut liqueur, served with chocolate-dipped hazelnut shortbread."
She was good; I had to give her that. Nico and I shared a deep, genetic affinity for the chocolate-hazelnut spread. Without hesitation, I picked up the spoon and dug in.
An intense, perfectly complex Nutella taste met my tongue. My eyes slid shut. "That is so good."
"Try it with the shortbread," Clementine instructed.
I dipped the chocolaty-end of the shortbread into the mousse. The crunch of the cookie set off the rich mousse like a dream. A chocolaty, hazelnutty, Nutella-y dream.
Dragging my attention away from dessert, I looked to Nico to see his reaction.
He stood staring at me, spoon in hand, mousse untouched.
I frowned at him. "What on earth are you waiting for? Eat!"
Nico scowled but dug his spoon into the mousse. He took a bite; his face froze.
"Seriously," I said, working two more spoonfuls, "I might lick the bowl."
Nico shrugged. "It's pretty good."
Clementine squared her shoulders. "Pretty good?"
"You want the job?"
"Yes, I do," she answered.
"I'll think about it," he told her, his expression guarded.
"Thank you," Clementine replied, unfazed.
I scooped another bite of mousse. "This shortbread? It's perfect!"
"It's the French butter. I get it from your grandmother's supplier--he gives us, I mean, me, a good deal. I bake croissants for him. He imports French butter but can't bake. Isn't that sad?"
I nodded, nibbling at the shortbread. "The butter certainly imports a richness of flavor that's quite special.”
― Hillary Manton Lodge, A Table by the Window

“I ate the soft warm bread with butter and apricot jam on one slice and cheese on the other. I am not sure how settled my mind was, but the food settled nicely in my belly.”
― Sally Andrew, Recipes for Love and Murder

“Your strengths are skills that come naturally. They smooth out your life from the center like a pat of melted butter.”
― Sarah Hays Coomer, The Habit Trip: A Fill-in-the-Blank Journey to a Life on Purpose

“Is this a potato? It's so smooth! It doesn't have that muddy, earthy smell to it! It's not fluffy or dry, and it just melts away in my mouth!"
"This is 'potato stewed in butter.' It's a dish I learned from Ajihyakusen, an izakaya in Sapporo.
For the soup, you use the ichiban-dashi of a katsuobushi. That way you won't waste the scent of the potato.
And for ten potatoes, you place half a pound of salted butter into the dashi...
...flavor it with a very slight amount of salt and sugar, and stew it over extremely low heat.
In about forty minutes, the potatoes will start to float in the dashi. If you keep boiling the potatoes, they'll sink again and then come floating back up in two and a half hours.
All you need to do after that is to boil it for about thirty more minutes, and it's done."
"Then you boil it for almost four hours total?"
"Right. It takes a whole day to cook this, so even though this dish only costs 600 yen, you have to order at least a day in advance to eat it at the izakaya.
The dishes Kurita and I made the other day were all made to your order. They were dishes that avoided the true nature of the potato. But this is a dish that draws out the full taste of the potato in a very straightforward way.
By cooking the potato for several hours over low heat, the flavor of the potato seeps out into the dashi, and when that happens, the unique muddy smell of the potato disappears. The potato can be easily broken apart in the soup, and it melts away on your tongue."
"That's the biggest difference from the other potato dishes."
"You can taste the true flavor of the potato with it.”
― Tetsu Kariya, Izakaya: Pub Food

“For every day I have known her, she has eaten the same breakfast: sourdough toast with butter and whipped honey. She slices the golden brown toasted bread into four small squares and places them on a paper towel she has folded in half. A generous smear of softened butter goes on each piece, as thick as frosting on a cupcake, and each is then topped by a good-size dollop of whipped honey. As a child, I watched her do this hundreds of times, and now, when I'm sick, sourdough toast with butter and honey is like medicine.”
― Sarah Jio, The Violets of March

“The butter should still be cold. Remove it from the fridge just before. Superior-quality butter should be eaten when it's still cold and hard, to truly luxuriate in its texture and aroma. It will begin to melt almost immediately with the heat of the rice, but I want you to eat it before it melts fully. Cool butter and warm rice. First of all, savor the difference in their temperatures. Then, the two will melt alongside one another, mingle together, and form a golden fountain, right there inside your mouth. Even without seeing it, you just know that it's golden--- that's the way it tastes. You'll sense the individual grains of rice coated in butter and aromatic fragrance as if the rice were being fried will ascend to your nose. A rich, milky sweetness will spread itself across your tongue...”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter

“The dusky-pink pollock roe she removed from its polystyrene packaging gleamed wetly and, for an instant, the image of Kaiji's puckered lips passed through her mind. Leaving its outer skin on, she broke up the roe with a fork and mixed it unfussily into the spaghetti. She sliced off a knob of the Calpis with a knife and perched it on top, then watched as the pale-yellow solid gently began to change color, spreading out to the sides and turning golden, mingling with the fish eggs. The full, milky aroma of the butter married with the salty marine tang of the roe as the scent of the dish went rising up to her face, and she breathed it deeply into her lungs. She garnished the pasta with a scattering of shiso leaves she'd torn up with her fingers, then moved the bowl of pasta over to her cardboard box. There was a rosy-cheeked frankness about the pink of the roe, and in combination with the oozing butter, it looked positively carefree. Rika tool up her fork and wound up the spaghetti, before lifting it to her mouth.
Cloaked in a coating of minuscule fish eggs and butter, the spaghetti strands sprang around Rika's tongue as if in excitement. The dish was adequately salted, but there was a relaxed, mellow quality to its taste. What a wonderful combination pollock roe and butter made!”
― Asako Yuzuki, Butter