Jam Quotes

“I suspect he's sweet on Sophie and doesn't like to see her work too hard.'
Tessa was glad to hear it. She'd felt awful about her reaction to Sophie's scar, and the thought that Sophie had a male admirer - and a handsome one like that- eased her conscience slightly. 'Perhaps he's in love with Agatha', she said.
'I hope not. I intend to marry Agatha myself. She may be a thousand years old, but she makes an incomparable jam tart. Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel

“Are you going to give a speech?' she asked gaily.

He gave a choked laugh. 'Of course not,' he said. 'Not for ages.'

'My cousin Davey gave one on his very first day!' ...

'In the Lords, I remember. It was about how he didn't like strawberry jam.'

'Be nice, Charles! It was a speech about fruit importation, which I admit devolved into something of a tirade.' She couldn't help but laugh. 'Still, you could talk about something more important.'

'Than jam? Impossible. We mustn't set the bar too high, Jane.”
― Charles Finch, The Fleet Street Murders

“Why was it that jam always coated me so?”
― Catherine Gilbert Murdock, Princess Ben

“Jam on a winter took away the blue devils. It was like tasting summer. ”
― Sandra Dallas

“Jam on November took away the worries, It was like tasting summer...”
― El Fuego

“Paduka!!! sang lemah di antara hamba tuan ini meradang;
.
manusia menulis sejarah
Di tangan bedil berdarah
Dan malam di umpat
Di antara jam malam ketat
Remaja dengan batu amarah
Melempari zirah - zirah tak mau enyah

#andradobing”
― andra dobing

“It was the best omelet Adrienne had ever eaten. Perfectly cooked so that the eggs were soft and buttery. Filled with sautéed onions and mushrooms and melted Camembert cheese. There were three roasted cherry tomatoes on the plate, skins splitting, oozing juice. Nutty wheat toast. Thatch had brought butter and jam to the table. The butter was served like a tiny cheesecake on a small pedestal under a glass dome. The jam was apricot, homemade, served from a Ball jar.”
― Elin Hilderbrand, The Blue Bistro

“ Imagine your husband cheated on you; what do you bake? Pies are too cheerful, cookies too festive, chocolate mousse too sensual-- you probably decide on jam. Something to pulverize. Blackberry jam, to be specific, made straight from the gnarled bush that has overtaken your potting shed in the back-- the bush, heavy with berries, that your lying husband promised to prune but never did. ”
― Jennifer Gold, The Ingredients of Us

“Ringkasan Sore; 1 pertanyaan menyatu antara 2 pasang mata, pada pukul 3 sore di saksikan 4 ekor pipit yang memiliki bayangan ke 5 dan saat 6 baris paragraf percakapan terputus semenjak kopi ini dingin kau diamkan pada 7 langkah berlalu

#andradobing”
― andra dobing

“Instead I turned my attention back to the copper of peach jam, releasing its autumnal scent. Peach is perhaps the most perfect fruit for making jam: sweet, yet firm; the golden flesh turning to a darker burnt-orange with cooking. My method allows the pieces of fruit to stay intact during the process, while retaining all the flavor. Today, we will leave the sugar and peach mixture to steep under a sheet of muslin; tomorrow, we will cook it, then ladle it into clean glass jars to put away for the winter.
There's something very comforting about the ritual of jam-making. It speaks of cellars filled with preserves; of neat rows of jars on pantry shelves. It speaks of winter mornings and bowls of chocolat au lait, with thick slices of good fresh bread and last year's peach jam, like a promise of sunshine at the darkest point of the year. It speaks of four stone walls, a roof, and of seasons that turn in the same place, in the same way, year after year, with sweet familiarity. It is the taste of home.”
― Joanne Harris, Peaches for Father Francis

“One billion b-balls dribbling simultaneously throughout the galaxy. One trillion b-balls being slam dunked through a hoop throughout the cosmos. I can feel every single b-ball that has ever existed at my fingertips, I can feel their collective knowledge channeling through my veins. Every jumpshot, every rebound and three-pointer, every layup, dunk, and free throw. I am there.”
― Charles Barkley

“So good to meet another- what do you say, 'foodie'? And I was just buying jam." He holds up a single jar of raspberry jam the color of rubies. It is the same jam Mama would buy for us when we stayed in France, the texture runny, little lumps of berries soft on the tongue, tiny seeds sticking between teeth.”
― Hannah Tunnicliffe, The Color of Tea

“And yeah, put out as I can be with Mama 'bout a lotta things, I gotta admit she gets all the credit for getting me interested in cooking when I was just knee-high to a grasshopper. Gladys never seemed to give a damn about it when we were kids, which I guess is why she and that family of hers nourish themselves today mainly on KFC and Whoppers and junk like that. But me, I couldn't keep my eyes off Mama when she'd fix a mess of short ribs, or cut out perfect rounds of buttermilk biscuit dough with a juice glass, or spread a thick, real shiny caramel icing over her 1-2-3-4 cakes. And I can remember like it was yesterday (must have been about 4 years old at the time) when she first let me help her bake cookies, especially the same jelly treats I still make today and could eat by the dozen if I didn't now have better control.
"Honey, start opening those jars on the counter," she said while she creamed butter and sugar with her Sunbeam electric hand mixer in the same wide, chipped bowl she used to make for biscuit dough. Strawberry, peach, and mint- the flavors never varied for Mama's jelly treats, and just the idea of making these cookies with anything but jelly and jam she'd put up herself the year before would have been inconceivable to Mama.”
― James Villas, Hungry for Happiness

“If you're going to be in a traffic jam, at least enjoy the flavor. Make some toast.”
― Bashar

“I can't understand why nobody at Safeway knew where the Lung Butter and Toe Jam were!!”
― Neil Leckman

“What's a lingonberry?"
"It's a fruit that grows in the forest, in Sweden. You've probably had lingonberry jam at your grandmother's house. We always had it when I was growing up; like other kids had grape jam, we had lingonberry. Your grandmother always used to say lingonberry jam is like Swedish summer in a jar. The Swedes love their lingonberries. It's not so sweet, sort of like cranberry sauce.”
― Sandra Lee, The Recipe Box

“Heads fall off from time to time
Some of them old, some of them young
The conductor hollers into the crowd:
'Keep moving forward to the back!”
― Sankha Ghosh

“Heads fall off from time to time
Some of them old, some of them young
The conductor hollers into the crowd:
'Keep moving forward to the back!”
― Indrajit Hazra, Grand Delusions: A Short Biography Of Kolkata

“He set a jar next to her elbow- sriracha bacon jam. Brave man, to try spicy again. Gina smiled.
"This won't even be difficult." She slathered the jam on two pieces of thick white bread, then topped each side with American cheese slices, giving one slice a scoop of macaroni and cheese.”
― Amy E. Reichert, The Optimist's Guide to Letting Go

“Peter folded his arms, and smiled knowingly at me.

“Okay! So, this is a big moment for me—”

“—eating bread with jam.”

“—important jam on important bread, Mr. Asturian!”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Peter

“I will slice you open and spread you as evenly as a coat of jam across the shore.”
― Seanan McGuire, Come Tumbling Down

“You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favourite flavour of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore, and not an imposter.'
'I didn't ...' Harry began, not entirely sure whether he was being reprimanded or not.
'For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry ... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam-preferences before impersonating myself.”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

“My lola had made a few jars of her specialty, matamis na bao, or coconut jam, to spread on our pandesal and kakanin. The fragrant smell of coconut cream, caramelized sugar, and pandan leaves wafted through the room, the intoxicating aroma of the dark, sticky jam making my mouth water.
I scanned the contents of the fridge, waiting for inspiration to strike. Whatever I made had to be small and snack-y, so as to complement but not draw attention from my grandmother's sweet, sticky rice cakes.
Maybe some kind of cookie to go with our after-dinner tea and coffee? Coco jam sandwiched between shortbread would be great, but sandwich cookies were a little heavier and more fiddly than what I was looking for. Maybe if they were open-faced?
As I thought of a way to make that work, my eyes fell on the pandan extract in the cabinet and everything clicked into place. Pandan thumbprint cookies with a dollop of coconut jam! Pandan and coconut were commonly used together, plus the buttery and lightly floral flavor of the cookies would balance well against the rich, intense sweetness of the jam.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Arsenic and Adobo

“The train of thought went like this: I scribbled down the most "sophisticated" foods I could think of. Foie gras. Truffles. Expensive wine. Caviar. Ibérico ham. The one that struck a chord with my Jewish brain was caviar. Caviar served with blinis, little pancakes hailing from eastern Europe. In Russia they served blinis with caviar and sour cream. But even if I could make a hundred and fifteen blinis in the time allowed (since we had to make a few extras for beauty shots and mistakes), I couldn't just serve them with caviar and sour cream. That wasn't transformative enough. Original enough.
What else was served with blinis? I tapped my pen thoughtfully against my Chef Supreme notepad. We were getting to the end of our planning session, and the way the others around me were nodding and whispering to themselves was making me nervous. Sadie, they all know exactly what they're doing, and you don't, I thought to myself. And then I nodded, confirming it.
Jam. Blinis were served sweet-style with jam. But even if I made my own jam, that wouldn't be enough. I needed a wow factor. What if... what if I made sweet blinis, but disguised them as savory blinis? Ideas ran through my head as we were driven to the grocery store. I wasn't hugely into molecular gastronomy, but even I knew how to take a liquid or an oil and turn it into small gelatinous pearls not unlike fish eggs. I could take jam, thin it out, and turn it into caviar. Then what would be my sour cream? A sweetened mascarpone whip? And then I needed something to keep all the sweetness from becoming overwhelming. I'd have to make the jam nice and tart. And maybe add a savory element. A fried sage leaf? That would be interesting...”
― Amanda Elliot, Sadie on a Plate

“I slid the cookie platter in front of them, which contained the four holiday cookies I'd come up with as well as peach-mango crumble cookies, my special of the day. The buttery, sweet base was topped with a dollop of my homemade peach mango jam, shortbread crumbles, and a generous dusting of powdered sugar.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Blackmail and Bibingka

“She fetched the bowl of sour cherries Sisy had pitted the night before. They would make a lovely jam for the queen's breakfast.
As the sour cherries simmered gently with honey, she turned her attention to the apples. The queen liked sweet dishes. Roxannah planned to make a date and raisin omelet, using the apples that had been preserved in the deep cellars of the palace since the previous autumn. They were a bit wrinkly and thick-skinned. But cooked in butter, they would taste fine.
She dropped the apple peels and seeds into the jam to help thicken its juice. Nothing went to waste in her kitchen.
She prepared the sweet mixture for the egg dish, keeping an eye on the jam at the same time as stirring the apples frying in butter. When they turned golden brown, she added the dates and raisins with a pinch of cinnamon and set the mixture aside. All that remained was to beat the eggs and add them to the mixture just before serving so that they would be fresh and warm for the queen.”
― Tessa Afshar, The Queen's Cook

“Tiger-orange, and so dreamy and evocative of name, cloudberries had been on my mind for years. The first time I ever came across them on a menu, rather than in a field guide, was in a bistro on Estonia's Baltic Coast, in Pärnu, as a jam to accompany cake. As I was curious to try the preserve, the waiter agreed to bring me a spoonful, despite the cake being off the menu. Golden and precious as the amber torn from rocks at the bottom of the Baltic Sea, it gleamed.”
― Caroline Eden, Cold Kitchen: A Year of Culinary Travels

“Off the hob, the orange jam is left to settle for a few minutes, then stirred and ladled into glass jars. Four pots of glistening amber, the curls of peel suspended like jewels in the deep-orange jelly. The kitchen is still cold, and with the scent of oranges and syrup in the air I feel the urge to make a rack of toast.
Marmalade is always a pot of joy. Button-bright, glistening and quivering on a spoon, it has none of the cloying sweetness of honey, a clarion call to the start of the day. Whisper it: this thick orange jam does not feel quite right at any other time of day. It glows like a candle on the greyest January morning, cheering us out of the door to work. No preserve causes such controversy, thick-cut or hair-thin, dark or pale, softly set or firm. Mine will be barely set, light in color and as much golden jelly as peel.
Any morning now, the garden white with frost, I will pick up one of the jars I have filled today, twist off the glossy black lid and inhale. I will dip in my spoon, spread the lumpy jam onto a piece of hot toast, wipe a bittersweet tear of syrup from the crust and start my day.”
― Nigel Slater, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts

“kamu seperti jarum jam yg bergerak pelan dan tetep kutunggui detik demi detik
bahkan aku tidak peduli sebosan apa aku melewatinya, mataku tetap fokus menatap tanpa lepas
aku hanya yakin akan sampe pada masa di mana satu titik ditempati dua jarum,laksana aku dan kamu, kalimatmu dan kalimatku yang seia sekata. namun kamu bukan jarum jam yang bergerak statis
kakimu kadang berputar, berbelok, merenggang menjauhkan jarak walau tetap menangkap pandangku
saat itulah dudukku mulai gelisah dan kamu tidak tau itu hingga aku putuskan untuk berdiri dan pergi meninggalkan kamu yang bergerak tanpa arah
aku sudah berjalan menjauh,menahan diri untuk tidak menoleh ke arahmu dan tidak tau apa kamu memanggilku atau membiarkanku. yang aku tahu, matahati di ujung jalan masih berwarna kuning mengawalku

_wasiman waz”
― WAZ

“Sitting, she dipped a bite of the honey cake in the jam and popped it into her mouth--- sweet and airy with a tartness from the lemon-raspberry jam. She almost let out a little moan. It made her feel as if she'd been dipped in sugar. She had sugar for blood and raspberry for breath.”
― Sarah Beth Durst, The Enchanted Greenhouse