Marcus Samuelsson Quotes

Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.

I love the fall. I love it because of the smells that you speak of; and also because things are dying, things that you don't have to take care of anymore, and the grass stops growing.

Corn wind in the fall, come off the black lands, come off the whisper of the silk hangers, the lap of the flat spear leaves.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it.

There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air.

I love to make a one-pot meal - think stir-fry but in the French Fricassee. I start with what takes the longest to roast and then add vegetables, fresh herbs, and starch until the meal is complete in one shot.

I've always had fond memories of cooking Thanksgiving.

Let the fresh fruits and vegetables be your guide, and make something that will keep for the whole week.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

Brussels sprouts are really quite versatile.

So, if I'm cooking, I'll be steaming vegetables, making some nice salad, that kind of stuff.

There's something about fall that very much translates into those nurturing, nostalgic food flavors. It's the season where you can really make the marriage of fresh produce with spices and aromatics.

I love slow cooker recipes - especially during the fall.

Behold congenial Autumn comes, the Sabbath of the Year.

Vegetables to me are - I don't want to say the most exciting part of cooking, but certainly a very exciting part of cooking, because they continue to change. They come into season and they go through different phases.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.

Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under harvest skies.

Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most to man and requires the least of him.

What is more cheerful, now, in the fall of the year, than an open-wood-fire? Do you hear those little chirps and twitters coming out of that piece of apple-wood? Those are the ghosts of the robins and blue-birds that sang upon the bough when it was in blossom last Spring. In Summer whole flocks of them come fluttering about the fruit-trees under the window: so I have singing birds all the year round.

Once more the liberal year laughs out O'er richer stores than gems or gold: Once more with harvest song and shout Is nature's boldest triumph told.

For the Fall of the year is more than three months bounded by an equinox and a solstice. It is a summing up without the finality of year's end.

There is a harmony In autumn, and a luster in its sky...

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

It was one of those perfect fall days when the air is cool enough to wake you up but the sun is also kissing your face.