“Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.”
“Tis an ill wind that blows no minds”
“Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of dark corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.”
“I cannot remember when I have had such good food," Ranulf said, with a smile of satisfaction bending his usually firm mouth."I'll be sure not to mention that to our own cooks.”
“Jenna ",he groaned. And when he licked his lips, he tasted the salt of his own tears.”
“The chef who cooks without a song on his lips cannot hope to infuse the right carefree improvisatory note into his art.”