Sausage Quotes

“Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it's not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed, hot woman over 40, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year old waitress. Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?", here's an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage. Why? Because women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage!”
― Frank Kaiser

“There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfast that I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee.

"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?"

"I have not yet breakfasted."

"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or something?"

"No, thank you."

She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage league or a league for the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of silence.”
― Wodehouse

“There he got out the luncheon-basket and packed a simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger's origin and preferences, he took care to include a yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered on far Southern slopes.”
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

“They don't go in for the fancy or exotic, but stick to conventional food like flightless bird embryos, minced organs in intestine skins, slices of hog flesh and burnt ground grass seeds dipped in animal fats; or, as it is known in their patois, egg, sausage, bacon and a fried slice of toast.”
― Terry Pratchett, Mort

“The x-ray of your skull shows a large, flobby mass floating inside. I have to consult my colleagues to be certain, but it looks like a long sausage snarled into a lump.”
― Benson Bruno, A Story that Talks About Talking is Like Chatter to Chattering Teeth, and Every Set of Dentures can Attest to the Fact that No . . .

“The next morning we experienced our very first “full English breakfast,” which consisted of tea, orange juice, cookies, oatmeal, granola, berries, bananas, croissants, grapes, pineapples, prunes, yogurt, five kinds of cold cereal, eggs, hash browns, back bacon, sausage, smoked salmon, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, toast, butter, jam, jelly, and honey. I don’t know how the British do it.”
― Jared Brock, A Year of Living Prayerfully

“A highbrow is the kind of person who looks at a sausage and thinks of Picasso.”
― A.P. Herbert, Uncommon Law: Being 66 Misleading Cases Revised and Collected in One Volume

“[If you hear a] story about how eating sausage leads to anal cancer, you will be skeptical, because it has never happened to anyone you know, and sausage, after all, is delicious.”
― David McRaney, You Are Not So Smart

“ He seasoned the chicken with salt, pepper and mustard, and then grilled it to absolute perfection in clarified butter! The light coating of panko is toasted to a beautiful golden brown. Its crunch delightfully highlights the chicken's tender juiciness.
"But what takes this dish's flavor and elevates it to a whole other level... are the tiny crumbles of Boudin Noir blood sausage you added during the grilling step!"
"That's right! The Poussin Chicken had just been butchered, so I took a little of its blood and mixed it with some pork blood... to whip up my own special blood sausage! That gave the dish some real punch, don'tcha think?"
"B-but that shouldn't even work!
Blood sausage has such a powerful flavor it should have overwhelmed the more delicate Poussin Chicken...
but that chicken flavor is still undeniably the centerpiece of this dish!"
"That's from the fat. See, I didn't just grab some of the chicken's blood. I siphoned up some of its fat too. With this special injector here."
Animal fat is just as jam-packed with richness and body as blood! A little dollop of that keeps the chicken balanced as the center of the dish while deepening its overall flavor!
Not only that, he used the chain carving knife to add innumerable delicate hidden cuts in the chicken. Thanks to those, the flavors of the chicken, the sausage and the sauce all meld together seamlessly, creating a cohesive overall experience.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 34 [Shokugeki no Souma 34]

“<...> в Берлинцоне, в стране басков, в области, называемой Живи-лакомо, где виноградные лозы подвязывают сосисками, гусь идет за копейку, да еще с гусенком впридачу; есть там гора вся из тертого пармезана, на которой живут люди и ничем другим не занимаются, как только готовят макароны и клецки, варят их в отваре из каплунов и бросают вниз; кто больше поймает, у того больше и бывает; а поблизости течет поток из Верначчьо, лучшего вина еще никто не пивал, и нет в нем ни капли воды.("Декамерон", Дж. Бокаччо)”
― Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

“A sausage is an image of rest, peace and tranquility in stark contrast to the destruction and chaos of everyday life.”
― Tom Robbins, Another Roadside Attraction

“I opened the fridge but there was nothing in it; apart from the stubby end of a black pudding sausage wrapped in cling film, which had been in there for god knows how long, as an emergency stash for when we ran out of blood or the butcher's was closed. I chopped it up into little pieces and carried them in the palm of my hand, like I was offering bread crumbs to the birds, while I went around the house one last time. I took little pieces one by one and popped them in my mouth. The black pudding tasted bad, especially so cold from the fridge. And my body couldn't take much of the egg and oats and pepper that were mixed with the blood to make the sausage; I had to spit most of it out. But it was sustenance, enough to tide me over.”
― Claire Kohda, Woman, Eating

“From time to time she tasted his food. The sausage was delicious, seasoned with ginger and spices. His sides were all buttery and rich- the mushrooms sautéed in butter, the tattie scones cooked in butter. She tried the black pudding with trepidation. It wasn't her favorite item, but it wasn't awful. It tasted a bit like liverwurst mixed with oatmeal. All of his dishes were rich and heavy. She had to lighten up their menu.
Her vegetables looked beautiful- red and yellow tomatoes, grilled Portobello mushrooms, purple potatoes. Colorful, bright, bursting with flavor. She prepared an orange marmalade, another Scottish specialty, and paired it with crispy challah toast. Cady and Em would have loved that part. The fruit salad was all citrus and lemon basil. The sauce fruity and tart.”
― Penny Watson, A Taste of Heaven

“The Queen Who Never Was,” Mushroom calls her. (“What did Viserys ever have that she did not? A little sausage? Is that all it takes to be a king? Let Mushroom rule, then. My sausage is thrice the size of his.”)”
― George R.R. Martin, Fire & Blood

“Thursday night is pasta night," I say. "I left you guys a lasagna Bolognese, garlic knots, and roasted broccolini. Ian is going to make the Caesar salad table side." Thursday is the day I come in only to train Ian, so on Wednesdays I always leave something for an easy pasta night. Either a baked dish, or a sauce and parboiled pasta for easy finishing, some prepped salad stuff, and a simple dessert.
"Awesome. Does the lasagna have the chunks of sausage in it?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Robert Adam Farber, would I leave you a lasagna without chunks of sausage in it?" I say with fake insult in my voice.
"No, El, you totally have my back on all things meat. What's for dessert?"
"Lemon olive oil cake with homemade vanilla bean gelato.”
― Stacey Ballis, How to Change a Life

“For the Otter Club, he and Rick had decided that the hot pepper summer sausage was too risky, but the aged cheddar, soft goat cheese, Wisconsin honey, and garlic summer sausage were easy choices.”
― Amy E. Reichert, The Kindred Spirits Supper Club

“Галицька «виборча ковбаса» (Wahlwurst), якою чиновники та поміщики підкуповували селян, навіть увійшла до загальноімперського політичного жаргону. <...> У суспільному житті галицьких українців у цей час з’являється новий персонаж — хрунь. Так називали тих русинів, які свідомо чи легковажно голосували не за власних кандидатів, а за польських, куплялися за «горілку й ковбасу» чи на обіцянки грошової винагороди.”
― Іван Гоменюк, Мурашник. Нотатки на манжетах історії Галичини, Буковини та Закарпаття

“I have a feeling he’s aware of everything going on around him and that he’ll jump to his feet at the slightest provocation and kill whoever bothered him with that damn sausage.

I wonder what my obituary would say in that scenario? Here lies Nicholette Bettencourt, who died from being whipped to death by sausage. Rest in peace.

Then again, do the criminals here get obituaries?”
― Ashlyn Hades, Broken Phoenix

“There is something about the first frost that brings out the caveman--- one might even say the vampire--- in me. I want to wear fur and suck the meat off lamb bones, and on comes my annual craving for boudin noir, otherwise known as blood sausage. You know you've been in France for nearly a decade when the idea of eating congealed blood sounds not only normal, but positively delightful.
When I was pregnant, my body craved iron in silly amounts. I could have eaten a skyscraper. It's a shame that it's not on the French pregnancy diet--- forbidden along with charcuterie, liver, and steak tartare.
It's true that boudin noir is not the sort of thing I'd buy at any old supermarket. Ideally, you want a butcher who prepares his own. I bought mine from the mustached man with the little truck in Apt market, the same one I'd spotted during our first picnic in Provence. Since our first visit, I'd returned many times to buy his delicious, very lean, saucisses fraîches and his handmade andouillettes, which I sauté with onions, Dijon mustard, and a bit of cream.
I serve my boudin with roasted apples--- this time, some Golden Delicious we picked up from a farm stand by the side of the road. I toasted the apple slices with olive oil, sprinkled the whole lot with sea salt, and added a cinnamon stick and a star anise to ground the dish with cozy autumn spices. Boudin is already cooked through when you buy it, but twenty minutes or so in a hot oven gives it time to blister, even burst. I'm an adventurous eater, but the idea of boiled (or cold) boudin makes me think about moving back to New Jersey. No, not really.
I admit, when you first take it out of the oven, there are some visual hurdles. There's always a brief moment--- particularly when I serve the dish to guests--- that I think, But that looks like large Labrador shit on a plate. True enough. But once you get past the aesthetics, you have one of the richest savory tastes I can imagine. Good boudin has a velveteen consistency that marries perfectly with the slight tartness of the roasted apples. Add mashed potatoes (with skin and lumps), a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, and wake me in the spring.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes