We teased, poked, prodded, sulked, conspired and competed. We wanted to be the best, we wanted to be different, but at the same time, correct. We yearned to bring honor to our clan, and in that vein, we came up with the looniest, most ambitious menu in our super-heated, endorphin-overloaded brains could agree on, a sort of greatest hits of our checkered careers so far collection. French classics sat side-by-side with Portuguese squid stew, my Tante Jeanne's humble salase de tomates, dishes we'd lifted out of cookbooks, stolen from other chefs, remembered seeing on TV.
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Anthony Bourdain
- Kitchen Confidential
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The elf did not look happy, but then he rarely did. His complexion was not as rosy as usual, but the centaur had a feeling that was about to change.
"A few words of advice, pony boy," snapped Root tearing the tip from the cigar. "One don't call me Julius. And....."
The Artermis Fowl Files - Eoin Colfer, because i have a weakness for books for eight-year olds, and smart-ass fairies :D
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