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Top 15 Martine Bailey Quotes (2024 Update)

Martine Bailey Quote: “I had never before heard Mozart’s “Idol mio”, nor anything sung by so fine a singer as Signora Tirenza, the prima donna from Rome itself. Her astonishing voice transported me to another place of wordless emotion. All my life I had hoped to find that uplifting love that crowns some lucky spirits but evades others, however long they seek it. Would it always escape me? Or should I return home, and try even harder to nurture affection between Michael and myself?”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Dr. Sampson left a brown bottle labeled “The Mixture.” While Mrs. Croxon slept, it took only a moment to exchange the contents with her own Hystericon. Nightshade had been one of Granny’s favorite simples; doled out to women troubled by fits or to bring on the Twilight Sleep when in childbed.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Aunt Charlotte was everyone’s Auntie, and provided the food: the ladies’ sugared ratafias, plates of toasted cheese at four in the morning, and beef and eggs for the gentlemen’s hearty breakfasts. But her pastry-cook’s heart was in the buffets that glittered under the colored lamps: the sugarwork Pleasure Gardens, and Rocky Islands decorated with jellies, rock candies, and pyramids of sweetmeats. And best of all were the chocolate Little Devils, morsels of magic that all the gentlemen loved.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Dishes and receipts formed like starbursts in her mind, trailing myriad ingredients. For one she needed rosewater, cherries, and almonds, for another pistachios, chocolate, and cream- soon she lost her way, and ordered whatever her whimsy suggested.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Women dream in courtship, but wedlock wakes them.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “They all hushed as Brinny, the one murderess of their crew, told them of the making of her bride cake, with primrose yellow butter and raisins of the sun, fattened on smuggled brandy. The further they sailed from England, the fonder they grew of the pleasures of home: plum trees with bowed branches, brambles in the hedge, cream from a beloved cow.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Buttoning up my new damson wool redingote, I put on my other new purchases, a hat trimmed with sable and matching muff and tippet. I had at last found costumes that suited my character: gowns in rich sapphire blues, purples, and emeralds, tight-sleeved and high-waisted. Our neighbor the milliner had taught me a voguish way with broad-brimmed hats, worn at the tilt Van Dyke fashion, with feathers and rosettes.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “I wanted to try dainty Italian fare, and bought spicy Bologna sausage, pink papery hams, hard white bread, and chalky cheeses. I also bought the makings of a Mackeroni Pie I had seen made at an inn, and a new sort of green stuff named brockerly that proved a great deal tastier than cabbage.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “I think of that sundial on the tower at Delafosse: the long shadow cast by a shape unseen, relentlessly circling the dial. In time the iron rod will rust, and the brass-bound face will crumble. Time devours all things: love and murder and secrets. And though the sun sinks, and the golden numerals fade, we must believe that our own fragile hearts will guide us, like pinpricks of starlight through the approaching night.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “The more they talked of escape, the harder it was to dowse the flame, for it shone like a gateway to a golden world. The Dutch Indies were famed as the most beautiful string of islands in the world, green hillocks scattered in calm blue seas, blessedly free of the head-hunters that plagued the Pacific. As for food, Jack had heard tell of luxurious feasts, of roast pig and yellow rice: the very words made their stomachs rumble.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Honeysuckle iced petals,′ scoffed one John Bull, spying my menu. ‘I should as soon eat a bouquet of flowers. You must serve me solid belly timber, madame, nothing else.’ Yet in one week I had tempted the old duffer with a restoring quintessence of veal. Then at dessert I caught him licking his spoon like a schoolboy as he scooped up a flower of my own exquisite honeysuckle ice.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “The room had been decked with late-blooming roses that cast up a sugary glasshouse scent. Yet amongst the profusion of china and silver, the atmosphere was one of flamboyance, rather than celebration. Mrs. Croxon announced that we should eat ‘exactly the Bill of Fare as given by a most genteel Countess at Bath’. I had no appetite for sardines in mustard, creamed oats and kidneys, for I had a stomach full of butterflies, as my mother had called my fits of nerves.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Only when he produced two glass bowls did I understand that the metal casket was a sorbetiere. Inside was a chocolate ice as rich in color as mahogany. I tasted it, rolling it around in my mouth. The coldness numbed my tongue and then the flavor burst out, rich and satisfying, as if the thickest pot of well-milled chocolate were made of snow.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “The Cocoa-Nut Tree at Covent Garden? Why it’s the finest confectioner in the capital and sells bonbons, macaroons, candied fruits, and ices,′ I said in my proper reading voice. I had long studied their advertisement in Mr Pars’ London Gazette after he’d left it by the kitchen fire. It was a beautiful advertisement, with little drawings of sugar cones, ice pots, and tiny men attending wondrous stoves.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Every cook knows it’s a rare day when you have all the parts of the perfect dish. But that day back at Mawton I had everything I needed: white fleshed pippins, pink quince, and a cinnamon stick that smelled like a breeze from the Indies. My flour was clean, my butter as yellow as a buttercup.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Outside, I shivered in a landscape of greys and silvers, the stone walls and cobbles looming pale in the wintry air. The only true color was an amber penumbra shimmering around the moon. Beyond the silvered slope of overgrown lawn, the mass of black trees moved to and fro in the breeze, with a strange undulation like waving sea fronds.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “Just outside Dover we stopped at an inn and I snatched a taste of dainty fried fish named smelts, and some herrings served with their tails in their mouths. Afterwards, me and Mr Loveday went out to take a view of the ocean. The wind was blowing so strong it whistled through my teeth and the sea was horrible; a vast plain of water ceaselessly moiling like a simmering pot. At last my head cold had cleared enough to taste the sea on my tongue; it had a strange salted vegetable tang.”
Martine Bailey Quote: “There was a new smell in the air at Lyons, of sun-baked southern stuffs, of strong red vinegar, and spikes of rosemary. It was a good thing too, for some of the streets were stinking warrens, and the beggars near withered me to death. The beggary was not for want of charity, for the place was a mass of popish churches and convents, ringing out their bells every quarter-hour. Yet thank my stars, our new lodgings were mighty grand, with glass windows, and our linen scented with orange blossom.”
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