Amy E. Reichert Quotes & Sayings

She planned to make a roast beef, a pile of mashed potatoes, corn- then mounted it into a bowl and drown it in gravy. Some people ate ice cream or pie when depressed; she went for the warm comfort food she learned to make in her grandma's kitchen. — Amy E. Reichert

How can you say anything other than Ratatouille is Pixar's best movie? Your a chef, for Christ's sake," Sue said.
Lou smiled at Sue's accusatory tone. She needed this distraction.
Harley rolled his eyes and said, "You're letting your biases show, Sue. Up uses music better- like a character. The opening fifteen minutes is some of the best filmmaking- ever. And who doesn't love a good squirrel joke?"
"But Ratatouille brings it all back to food." Sue waved a carrot in the air to emphasize her point. "They made you want to eat food cooked by a rat! I'd eat the food; it looked magnificent. That rat cooked what he loved; what tasted good. Like I've been telling Lou, we should cook food from the heart, not just the cookbook. — Amy E. Reichert

I refuse to be linguistically constrained by dictionary writers. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou's arteries congealed as she recalled the pounds of butter that went into the meal and the two pies cooling in the kitchen. But you couldn't skimp on butter on a holiday, and any substitute would feel wrong to a girl born and raised in the Dairy State. At least she'd resisted putting cheese in half the dishes. — Amy E. Reichert

When love is real, even when you can't find it under mountains of hurt feelings and shuttered emotions, it's not really gone. All it takes is finding one new reason to fall in love. Just one, and all the other reasons become clear again. — Amy E. Reichert

Delight is indeed born in the heart. It sometimes also depends on its surroundings. — Amy E. Reichert

They spent the next hour nibbling their way through the food stalls, sharing spiral-cut potatoes, pork sandwiches, and cream puffs. They found a table in one of the many shaded beer gardens, and Lou retrieved some ice-cold Summer Shandys to go with their food. The beer had a light lemon edge that offset the malt, making it an ideal hot-summer-day drink. The potato spirals, long twirls coated in bright orange cheese, combined the thin crispiness of a potato chip with a French fry. And the cream puffs... The size of a hamburger on steroids, the two pate a choux ends showcased almost two cups of whipped cream- light, fluffy, and fresh. — Amy E. Reichert

Coconut teased him with tropical deliciousness; then the vanilla he so often smelled on Lou's neck wafted up. He ached to hold her, smell that spot right behind her ear. The cake, frosted and covered with toasted coconut, beckoned, wanting to be cut and eaten immediately. — Amy E. Reichert

Al and Lou had arrived at the Wisconsin State Fair by nine in the morning for fresh egg omelettes in the Agriculture Building and some apple cider donuts. They'd nibbled their donuts and wandered the stalls celebrating various products grown and raised in Wisconsin. You could sample and buy anything, from honey-filled plastic sticks to ostrich steaks to cranberry scones. They followed up their breakfast with a stop at the milk barn, where Lou had forced him to try root beer-flavored milk. While he'd been skeptical, it tasted delicious and precisely like a root beer float. — Amy E. Reichert

Anything good on the trucks?"
"Some beautiful lake salmon, fresh asparagus, and new potatoes."
"New enough their skin is peeling?"
"Yes."
"I know what we're going to do today!" Lou felt the excitement surge. This was why she loved cooking: getting amazing fresh ingredients and making something extraordinary. Luella's traditional French menu didn't leave much room for creativity, so the daily special had become Lou's canvas, where she was limited only by her imagination and whims.
"We'll keep it a simple spring dinner. Roast the potatoes in butter, salt, and pepper. Maybe some thyme or tarragon, too. We'll top the salmon fillets with hollandaise and roast the asparagus. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou popped up often in his daydreams: her warm eyes, creamy skin, even her scars. Where were those from? Not many women could pull off the drunken-mess look, but Lou had been adorable and charming and a bit intoxicating. And the cake- he couldn't forget the smell of that coconut cake. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of just-cut flowers, fresh tamales from the food stands, and sunshine. She preferred the West Allis farmers' market to all others in the area, with its open sides, wide walkways, and rows of stalls. More recently, small tents serving hot sandwiches and fresh Mexican food had popped up outside the brick walls. It all looked so good, she'd learned long ago to come with limited funds or she would buy more produce than she could possibly use. She relished talking to the farmers, learning about what they grew and where. She liked to search for farmers growing something new and interesting she could use at Luella's.
But today's visit was personal, not business. Sue had dragged her out to West Allis for a little lunch and some girl time with fall squash and Honeycrisp apples. — Amy E. Reichert

He'd been living a lie since he arrived. He'd pretended to be a local, yet had loathed everything about Milwaukee. Now Al knew differently. He didn't want to be anything else but himself: a cheese curd-loving, festival-going, Brew Crew fan who adored the most incredible chef in the city. — Amy E. Reichert

She slapped a few slices of bacon on the heated griddle. Sizzling started immediately and the scent of rising coconut cake mingled with the smoky salt of bacon. "Heaven." She buttered day-old baguettes to toast, then cracked a few eggs for breakfast sandwiches. "Now some cheese. Brie? Emmental? Mmm, smoky onion cheddar. — Amy E. Reichert

As he walked past the newsstand, he couldn't help sniffing the air, searching for hints of bacon, coconut, and vanilla. Combined with John's declaration that he needed to get laid, he couldn't get that smell off his mind, or her adorable freckles, or the broken expression on her face as she blew past him on the sidewalk. Such a marvelous creature deserved someone who understood her talents- someone like him, perhaps. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou recovered some foie gras, duck confit, and assorted veggies and herbs. As she grabbed the items, a menu started bubbling to the surface: foie gras ravioli with a cherry-sage cream sauce, crispy goat cheese medallions on mixed greens with a simple vinaigrette, pan-fried duck confit, and duck-fat-roasted new potatoes with more of the cherry-sage cream sauce. For dessert, a chocolate souffle with coconut crisps. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou loved watching Al savor every bite. She mentally vowed to make him an amazing meal just to see him enjoy it. Maybe her Cuban pork with black beans and cilantro rice. That was a great summer feast- complete with mojitos and mojo sauce. If he savored a burger with such fervor, she he'd swoon over her cooking. — Amy E. Reichert

Big, burly Harley with the heart of an angel, soul of a teddy bear, and Sue with her backbone of titanium, spiked with rusty nails, ready to take on any threat to those close to her. — Amy E. Reichert

Before the downpour, Al had thought Lou looked alluring in her pale pink T-shirt and simple flowered skirt. Her soft brown waves bounced around her shoulders with the humidity. She was simply beautiful. But with the addition of water, she evolved into a siren. Her thin cotton clothes clung to every curve. She slicked her hair away from her face, as if emerging from an enchanted lake. — Amy E. Reichert

Luella had been Lou's favorite grandma. Some grandmas took their grandchildren to parks, or bought them books and dolls, or shared their special stories. Her grandma shared her recipes. She taught Lou how to check when a roast turkey was done, chop veggies without cutting off a finger, and bake a coconut cake grown men swooned over. A fog of comforting smells had perpetually blanketed her kitchen- an expression of her love so strong you could taste it. Lou caught the culinary bug during those early days and loved that she was named after her grandma, even if Lou believed she'd never make food quite as delicious. — Amy E. Reichert

Do not hide who you are. These are a nurturer's hands. Cooking is hard and sometimes painful work, but you do it to share your gift with us. Your cooking improves our lives. Don't ever be ashamed of who you are. — Amy E. Reichert

While Lou loved the raucous music, loud voices, and chaotic movement of a dinner rush, the calm of prep-work soothed her soul and gave her time to think. Some people did downward dog, some burned incense in front of a Buddha statue, some prayed the rosary; Lou chopped the vegetables into tiny squares, filleted fish, and reduced veal stock. Her meditation smelled better, and even if she didn't find a solution, at least she got to eat. — Amy E. Reichert

Everyone deserves a little pampering when they're sick. I'm sure you'd do the same."
"Of course. I'd bring you mountains of cheese and frozen custard and coffee with too much cream and sugar."
"And stacks of eighties teen movies?"
"The very best ones."
"See? You'd spoil me, too. — Amy E. Reichert

Lou had brought the grill from ice-cold to scorching-hot faster than a firestorm; the brats were preboiled in beer and onions and burst with the perfect combination of juicy and smoky, complete with a crunchy outside topped with just a smear of Dijon. Paired with ice-cold Spotted Cows, his new favorite Wisconsin beer, Al got it. He got why people came hours early. It wasn't about good seats or convenient parking. It was a friendly little party with forty thousand of your closest friends. — Amy E. Reichert