Preferences Quotes

“Happiness prefers to live inside those who do not have preferences, because it never gets evicted there.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“It's macaroni soup. Curls of pasta swim in steaming, fragrant broth, and pieces of boiled chicken are all tangled up with them, the meat nearly fallen off the bones. It's comfort food, the kind my parents brought over the ocean with them twenty-five years ago, and the kind that doesn't fit westernized Chinese restaurant menus. My mother used to make it for us for breakfast, before we got older and told her we had no time to eat in the morning if we wanted to make the school bus. For years now it's been only the occasional snack, a rare treat.
But I still like it best made with sugar, and so does my brother Lei. Only our older sister Yun asks for it this way, savory and salty.”
― Elsie Chapman, Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love

“We prefer our way into things such as regret, unhappiness, and anxiety.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“~ FRENCH APPLE CAKE WITH ALMONDS ~

I like a mix of apples, some firm and tangy, others soft and sweeter for a bit of variety. Whatever you do, do not spice the cake! Cinnamon and nutmeg do not belong in a French cake.
Serve with crème fraîche to be French, but freshly whipped cream or homemade ice cream won't taste bad either.”
― Hillary Manton Lodge, A Table by the Window

“We prefer ourselves into unhappiness.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“You don't know much about guns, other than the guns you've used in video games, like Doom. And even when you play Doom, guns are not your weapon of choice. You prefer a chainsaw or a rocket launcher, weapons with more Grand Guignol-style thrills to them.”
― Gabrielle Zevin, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

“She flipped through the notebook. In most places, Murphy’s large, crooked handwriting ate up the pages greedily, as if she couldn’t write large enough to get her point across. Occasionally Birdie’s more graceful handwriting appeared, adding asides or participating with Murphy in some kind of list she had thrown together, like favorite Leeda moments, or most unknown things about Leeda, or Leeda’s top five best articles of clothing.
Mostly, though, it was all Murphy. Listing albums Leeda had to own before she died, like Janis Joplin’s Pearl. Copied scraps of her favorite poetry: about nature and despair and cities and even one or two about love that Murphy had annotated with words like Sickening, but she’s good and Horrible but worth reading. Dried leaves---pecan, magnolia, and, of course, the thin slivered shape of the peach leaf---taped in messy crisscrosses. A cider label Birdie had once kissed. A diagram of Leeda---outlined sloppily with colored-in blond hair, with words on the outside pointing to different parts of her: brainy pointing to her head, good posture pointing to her back, hot gams pointing to her legs, impenetrable (ha ha) pointing to her heart.”
― Jodi Lynn Anderson, The Secrets of Peaches

“That smells delicious, Miss Sydney... may I ask what it is?"
"Marjoram sausage and potatoes. And green peas in cream."
Ross's appetite kindled at the savory fragrance that wafted from the plate. Lately Sophia had taken a strong hand in the kitchen, showing the inept cook-maid how to prepare edible meals. She paid close attention to his likes and dislikes, observing that he preferred well-seasoned food and had an incurable sweet tooth. In the past several days Ross had succumbed to the temptation of crisp-crusted charlotte pudding mounded high with orange filling... plum cake rich with molasses and currants... sugared apples wedged between thick layers of dough.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Lady Sophia's Lover

“The good news was that he wasn't sixteen anymore and he had this, his art. His food. And if this dinner continued to go the way it was going, if Mrs. Raje stood by her word and gave DJ the contract for her son's fund-raising dinner next month based on tonight's success... well, then they'd be fine.
Mrs. Raje had been more impressed thus far. Everything from the steamed momos to the dum biryani had turned out just so. The mayor of San Francisco had even asked to speak to DJ after tasting the California blue crab with bitter coconut cream and tucked DJ's card into his wallet.
Only dessert remained, and dessert was DJ's crowning glory, his true love. With sugar he could make love to taste buds, make adult humans sob.
The reason Mina Raje had given him, a foreigner and a newbie, a shot at tonight was his Arabica bean gelato with dark caramel. DJ had created the dessert for her after spending a week researching her. Not just her favorite restaurants, but where she shopped, how she wore her clothes, what made her laugh, even the perfume she wore and how much. The taste buds drew from who you were. How you reacted to taste as a sense was a culmination of how you processed the world, the most primal form of how you interacted with your environment.
It was DJ's greatest strength and weakness, needing to know what exact note of flavor unfurled a person. His need to find that chord and strum it was bone deep.”
― Sonali Dev, Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors

“She covered the bread dough with plastic wrap and put it in the sun, she pulled out her blender and added the ingredients for the pots de crème: eggs, sugar, half a cup of her morning coffee, heavy cream, and eight ounces of melted Schraffenberger chocolate. What could be easier? The food editor of the Calgary paper had sent Marguerite the chocolate in February as a gift, a thank-you- Marguerite had written this very recipe into her column for Valentine's Day and reader response had been enthusiastic. (In the recipe, Marguerite had suggested the reader use "the richest, most decadent block of chocolate available in a fifty-mile radius. Do not- and I repeat- do not use Nestlé or Hershey's!") Marguerite hit the blender's puree button and savored the noise of work. She poured the liquid chocolate into ramekins and placed them in the fridge.
Porter had been wrong about the restaurant, wrong about what people would want or wouldn't want. What people wanted was for a trained chef, a real authority, to show them how to eat. Marguerite built her clientele course by course, meal by meal: the freshest, ripest seasonal ingredients, a delicate balance of rich and creamy, bold and spicy, crunchy, salty, succulent. Everything from scratch. The occasional exception was made: Marguerite's attorney, Damian Vix, was allergic to shellfish, one of the selectmen could not abide tomatoes or the spines of romaine lettuce. Vegetarian? Pregnancy cravings? Marguerite catered to many more whims than she liked to admit, and after the first few summers the customers trusted her. They stopped asking for their steaks well-done or mayonnaise on the side. They ate what she served: frog legs, rabbit and white bean stew under flaky pastry, quinoa.”
― Elin Hilderbrand, The Love Season

“Love, unless it is for life as a whole, is contaminated by things such as our preferences and memories.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Do not bound my preference of choices to abound your choice of preferences”
― P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“What's worthless to you might not be worthless to me.”
― Orson Scott Card, Stonefather

“You can’t normalize preferences and choices of people in life. The normality of people preferences is diversity and it is generalized through its uniqueness. Choose not to monopolize other people happiness or feelings to yours . Thinking what makes you happy will make them happy. We are not the same for a reason.”
― De philosopher DJ Kyos

“I believe that human preferences came to be what they are in those millions of years in which our ancestors (whether or not they can be classified as human) lived in hunting bands and were those preferences which, in such conditions, were conducive to survival. It may be, therefore, that ultimately the work of sociobiologists (and their critics) will enable us to construct a picture of human nature in such detail that we can derive the set of preferences with which economists start. And if this result is achieved, it will enable us to refine our analysis of consumer demand and of other kinds of behaviour in the economic sphere.”
― Ronald H. Coase, The Firm, the Market, and the Law

“We sit through endless tastings where people with Naugahyde for palates pick apart our dishes and offer suggestions and changes that we? HAVE TO MAKE. I happen to love a braised pork cheek garnished with crispy bits of fried pig ear, or a smoked bison tongue salad. But I have yet to meet a client who wants me to make that for their daughter's sweet sixteen.
And at the end of the day, if I can bring integrity to one more chicken breast dinner, to the "trio of salads" ladies' luncheon, to the surprise hot dog cart at the end of the wedding, perfectly snappy grilled Vienna Beef beauties with homemade steamed buns and all seven of the classic Chicago Dog toppings, then I have done my job and might get another.”
― Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch

“Mental pain is usually caused, not by our being pushed by life to where we do not want—or away from where we want—to be, but by the friction caused by our resistance to the push.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“Three layers. Chocolate. Lemon. Pink champagne. The bride wanted lemons grown only in Sorrento. The groom claimed that chocolate made anywhere but Bruges was a waste of cacao. They both refused to consider any champagne but that of a bespoke label that produced only two hundred bottles of that variety a year, most of which were presold to a man in Chicago who, like most multimillionaires, didn't share his toys.”
― Lucy Parker, Battle Royal

“Mom, I think you've done enough experimenting. All of these batches have been delicious."
I dip the other, unbitten end into a small dish of sweet chili sauce.
"You never know what people will want," she says. "Some like it with pork, some like it with chicken, some like it with shrimp."
Our post-work evening has been spent testing out different batches of lumpia for the upcoming Maui Food Festival. Ever since I told her we'd be competing to keep our spot on Makena Road, she's been in a food-prepping frenzy. Every night after work for the past week she's spent hours testing out new dishes, tweaking ingredients to get the flavors just right. Yesterday it was adjusting the level of fish sauce in the pansit, then attempting to perfect the ratio of rice noodle to meat and vegetables.”
― Sarah Smith, Simmer Down

“I'm not sure we'll have much to your liking, other than the roasted vegetables. We Southerners are all about refined sugar and flours."
"You don't eat sugar or flour?" Sam's eyebrows reached his hairline. "God, what else is there? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm a carnivore through and through, but I couldn't live without breads and desserts."
"Sam!" Poppy gave him a disapproving look. Maybe she could polish my brother, although I doubted it.
Javier ladled several scoops of chicken and dumplings onto his plate. "I try to eat clean. But it's not as if I don't ever splurge. I love a grain-free veggie pizza with no cheese."
The table gasped.
"Veggie pizza with no cheese!" Meemaw looked appalled. "That's not pizza! What's the point without the cheese?"
Javy passed the tureen to Betsy, who scowled at her grandmother. "It's still pizza, Meemaw. I might try that sometime."
Alex choked on a sip of tea. I elbowed him as Betsy leaned around Javy to glare at her cousin.
"I agree that on occasion, you gotta splurge."
Alex laughed under his breath. "Cheese is your favorite food group, Bets." The idea of Betsy eating clean really seemed to tickle his funny bone. He was lucky she wasn't sitting closer to him. He'd pay later.
Her knuckles were white as she gripped her knife. "And yours is beer foam."
The table went silent.”
― Kate Young, Southern Sass and a Crispy Corpse

“Whenever my family goes out to eat, it's usually fancier restaurants---an Argentine steak house, a French bistro, one of those classic return-home tacos. Mom likes to eat healthy, and so she's taught Rosalba to make recipes off the internet, dishes with quinoa and kale and coconut oil subbed in for butter. Felix was the biggest proponent of traditional Mexican dishes, taking me to restaurants and markets our parents wouldn't set foot in, begging Rosalba to bust out anything in her repertoire.”
― Adi Alsaid, North of Happy

“From a time even before then, from before James was born, there's a list of frequently requested items in English and Chinese:


Egg rolls
Wontons
Pot stickers
Crab rangoons (What are these? Winnie, their mother, annotated in Chinese. Their father wrote underneath, Wontons filled with cream cheese.)
Beef with broccoli


Following a scattershot statistical analysis, Winnie also compiled a list of things Americans liked:


Large chunks of meat
Wontons and noodles together in the same soup
Pea pods and green beans, carrots, broccoli, baby corn (no other vegetables)
Ribs or chicken wings
Beef with broccoli
Chicken with peanuts
Peanuts in everything
Chop suey (What is this? Leo wrote. I don't know, Winnie wrote.)
Anything with shrimp (The rest of them can't eat shrimp, she annotated. Be careful.)
Anything from the deep fryer
Anything with sweet and sour sauce
Anything with a thick, brown sauce


And there is, of course, the list of things the Americans didn't like:


Meat on the bone (except ribs or chicken wings)
Rice porridge
Fermented soybeans”
― Lan Samantha Chang, The Family Chao

“Katherine sits at a table of four. She's a defensive diner, with her back to the wall like Al Capone. James asks for her order. Tea. Spicy tofu. Does she want it with, or without pork? She wants the pork. Would she like brown rice? No, she says, brown rice is an affectation of Dagou's, not authentic. White rice is fine. Whatever her complications, James thinks, they're played out in the real world, not in her palate.
But Katherine's appetite for Chinese food is hard-won. She's learned to love it, after an initial aversion, followed by disinclination, and finally, exploration. Everyone knows she grew up in Sioux City eating peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, carrot sticks, and "ants on a log" (celery sticks smeared with peanut butter, then dotted with raisins). Guzzling orange juice for breakfast, learning to make omelets, pancakes, waffles, and French toast. On holidays, family dinners of an enormous standing rib roast served with cheesy potatoes, mashed potatoes, and sweet potatoes with marshmallows, Brussels sprouts with pecans, creamed spinach, corn casserole, and homemade cranberry sauce. Baking, with her mother, Margaret Corcoran, Christmas cookies in the shapes of music notes, jingle bells, and double basses. Learning to roll piecrust. Yet her immersion in these skills, taught by her devoted mother, have over time created a hunger for another culture. James can see it in the focused way she examines the shabby restaurant. He can see it in the way she looks at him. It's a clinical look, a look of data collection, but also of loss. Why doesn't she do her research in China, where her biological mother lived and died? Because she works so hard at her demanding job in Chicago. In the meantime, the Fine Chao will have to do.”
― Lan Samantha Chang, The Family Chao

“Next stop: the cake. The couple had ordered theirs through one of Alfie's hotel pastry chefs, and it was three tiers of buttercream-frosted flowers that cascaded down all sides. One thing Cedric taught his planners was to consider where a wedding would take place and what was most appropriate for that setting---especially when it came to the cake.
For example, if the couple wanted their wedding cake displayed at an outsider reception, they were limited to the type of frosting since many varieties melted in warm temperatures. Obviously, ice cream cakes were almost always out of the question, not only because they melted but also because they should only appear at toddler's parties, as Cedric was quick to say. Meanwhile fondant, while gorgeous, wasn't always the tastiest but could withstand a nuclear attack.
We gave Camila and Alfie the gentler version of this spiel, but they insisted on savory buttercream regardless---and agreed to leave the cake inside on the big day. I had doubts about how much the bride actually loved cake anyway, given that she looked as if she maybe one piece of lettuce a day. But, "A wedding without a cake isn't really a wedding"---another one of Cedric's truisms, this one inspired by the Candy Bar Craze of 2009 and the Great Doughnuts of 2013.”
― Mary Hollis Huddleston, Without a Hitch

“The restaurants are very different, by asking which you like. The restaurants are very different, Mimi's is pretty simple and BYOB while Frannie's has a bar. Some people go to Mimi's because they really love the pie but it's better to go to Frannie's if you have someone in your family who is a picky eater or vegetarian because they will be able to find something that isn't chicken. Chicken Frannie's has fried mozzarella and cheesecake.”
― K.J. Dell'Antonia, The Chicken Sisters

“You can’t change the hand that you were dealt. The fact is, there’s only one deck and only one dealer, and you are neither.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Teddy knew what everyone would order before they even sat down. It was meat loaf night, which was Charlie's favorite, so of course he'd have that with extra gravy on the side. His mom would stick with the scallops, Gretchen would get the chicken, Jane would either get the scallops or the short ribs (depending on how much red meat she'd eaten that week), and Kay would get the chopped salad with a piece of salmon on top.
A calm came over Teddy as his family went around and ordered, one by one, and he had guessed right. He ordered the skirt steak, creamed spinach, and a glass of cabernet. No one got dessert, although Kay and Gail both ordered Baileys on the rocks as they almost always did.”
― Jennifer Close, Marrying the Ketchups

“The pronoun that identifies you is the one stitched through your DNA, not the one woven through your imagination.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Even though the sauce started with the basic ingredients---sugar and salt---there were endless varieties. In Kansas City, their barbecue was known for rich, robust sauce with a reduced tomato base. There was an area of the Carolinas known as the Low Country---she didn’t know why it was called Low Country---where they favored a light yellow mustard sauce. Here in Texas, folks went for heat---from jalapeños, serranos, or even fiery ghost chilies---the kind of deep, flavorful pepper that sent the waitstaff at Cubby’s scurrying for pitchers of beer and sweet tea by the gallon.”
― Susan Wiggs, Sugar and Salt

“In Belinda's dark Craftsman, we drank Riley's cocktails, then ate Belinda's impeccable entrées: roast vegetable lasagna, chicken piccata, shrimp and grits, roast pork with prunes.
"This pork is amazing," said Jennie, present for the first time in weeks. "But I move that from now on, we don't have red meat or pork---not because I'm vegetarian but because those farming practices are so bad for the environment."
In fact, I didn't cook pork or red meat at home (except for brisket at Passover) for precisely Jennie's reason. As a restaurant critic, I ate---or at least tasted---everything. And as a guest, I'd taken the no-asshole pledge and ate whatever my hosts put on the table, though I drew the line at eel. (Some things are too ugly to eat.)
Murmured protests came from the meat-and-potato contingent (Charlotte, Belinda, Sam, and Adrian), but even they agreed that we could stick with chicken and fish.
"And only fish on the safe lists---low-mercury, sustainably farmed," said Jennie.
Adrian said, "Best quit while you're ahead, Jen.”
― Michelle Huneven, Search