And I was in another band called Flash In The Pan, which was soca, Latin music, down in Laguna Beach.
Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled. I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.
80% of Italian cooking is done in a sauté pan.
A lot of people who want to cook with less fat are surprised by that. You can cook vegetables in a little water in a covered pan and then throw the fat into the residual liquid to coat them.
I am the pedophiles dream, a messianic Peter Pan.
I love African food, I love Italian food, but I rarely eat Italian out because it's so easy to make at home. On the other hand, unless you have specialized equipment, Chinese food is really tough because you literally can't get the pan hot enough.
If you record the sound of bacon in a frying pan and play it back, it sounds like the pops and cracks on an old 33 13 recording. Almost exactly like that. You could substitute it for that sound.
He [Peter Pan] is a metaphor for dreams and faith.
There is a cunning which we in England call "the turning of the cat" in the pan; which is, when that which a man says to another, he says it as if another had said it to him.
You ought to have seen Frédéric with his monocle, his greying whiskers, his calm demeanour, carving his plump quack-quack, trussed and already flamed, throwing it into the pan, preparing the sauce, salting and peppering like Claude Monet's paintings, with the seriousness of a judge and the precision of a mathematician, and opening up, with a sure hand, in advance, every perspective of taste.
Some of my plays peter out and some pan out.
The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, 'Daddy, I need to ask you something,' he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan.
The hats of all eras thrill me. People don't wear them anymore. So when you see an outfit completed by a hat (that's for men too) it's thrilling. Especially if it's a Cloche from the 20's or a "Peter Pan" from the 30's, a Homburg from the 50's, or a Stingy Brim from the 60's. It's time stamping. Today everybody just wants to wear a baseball cap!
when you think you've got hold of a genius. . . you can't be sure whether it's a spark of the divine fire or a mere flash in the pan.
We are acting on our desire; there is nothing wrong. Just remember if it does not pan out, if our desires go unfulfilled, it's perfect!
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
I want in 40 years to still be acting and to more than anything have longevity and not just be this huge flash in the pan and then disappear.
I can't accept "our nervous age," since mankind has been nervous during every age. Whoever fears nervousness should turn into a sturgeon or smelt; if a sturgeon makes a stupid mistake, it can only be one: to end up on a hook, and then in a pan in a pastry shell.
I can remember when pants were pants. You wore them for twenty years, then you cut them down for pan scrubs. Or quilts.
You need to either create a slurry in a cold liquid, which also works with cornstarch, or you've got to do your gravy in a very wide pan and kind of scatter the flour over the top and then very quickly whisk it in.