Memories are like mulligatawny soup in a cheap restaurant. It is best not to stir them.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I was once married to a woman who could eat anything and tell you what was in it: the most complicated recipes. Her memory of taste - now that's what I call memory!
Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.
Food is so heavily connected to memory.
Most of my food memories are of my Nan cooking Sunday dinners - roasts of meat with lots of vegetables. I suppose I cook what's comforting and dishes that make me feel good.
Leftovers in their less visible form are called memories. Stored in the refrigerator of the mind and the cupboard of the heart.
Some memories are unforgettable, remaining ever vivid and heartwarming!
My grandmothers are full of memories, smelling of soap and onions and wet clay, with veins rolling roughly over quick hands, they have many clean words to say, my grandmothers were strong.
Most of us have fond memories of food from our childhood. Whether it was our mom's homemade lasagna or a memorable chocolate birthday cake, food has a way of transporting us back to the past.
Memories are like stones, time and distance erode them like acid.
Memories are like mercury. Every time you sort of try to get near them, they slip out of your hand like a bar of soap.