A Quote by Paul Hollywood

I grew up to the smell of doughnuts, scones, pies, and bread. — © Paul Hollywood
I grew up to the smell of doughnuts, scones, pies, and bread.
I worship scones and danishes. If I never had another meal, I wouldn't care as long as I could eat pastries and jelly doughnuts.
I love pies of all types. I especially love rhubarb. I grew up with rhubarb growing on our property, and my mom would make rhubarb pies and jam. I have to admit, though, my earliest memories of rhubarb were not fond ones, but over time, I grew to love it.
When you smell our candles burning, what does it make you think of, my child?" Winterfell, she might have said. I smell snow and smoke and pine needles. I smell the stables. I smell Hodor laughing, and Jon and Robb battling in the yard, and Sansa singing about some stupid lady fair. I smell the crypts where the stone kings sit. I smell hot bread baking. I smell the godswood. I smell my wolf. I smell her fur, almost as if she were still beside me. "I don't smell anything," she said.
Do the small things of life with a relaxed awareness. When you are eating, eat totally - chew totally, taste totally, smell totally. Touch your bread, feel the texture. Smell the bread, smell the flavor. Chew it, let it dissolve into your being.
The automatic bread maker is not as good as breads made by hand, but waking up to the smell of fresh bread is worth the price of admission. We use it for fresh cinnamon raisin toast - mmmmmmm!
I grew up on a farm - I know the smell of horse manure. It does smell better than pig manure.
There are two smells that I can recognize right away. The smell of the boxing ring and the smell of a garage. That's where I grew up. I can recognize these places with my eyes closed.
When I got on set, and these huge, big lights come on, it brings on a smell - it's almost like the smell of a light burning a little bit - and I said, 'This reminds me of my childhood,' because I grew up onstage.
I love to make pies - pot pies, quiches, savory tarts, fruit pies. I use an old-fashioned pastry blender with wires and a wooden handle. I never use a recipe.
I grew up in the East Village with a lot of old people in my building, and I'm not sure if they lost their sense of smell over the years, but they always seemed to smell like they poured a bottle of perfume on themselves. I never want to become that person.
I grew up kissing books and bread.
Bread and football - that's how I grew up.
This is what I grew up on in Alsace. It's choucroute. I'd wake up every morning with the smell of cabbage and potatoes and pork.
I grew up with the smell of the lake and the feeling of the woods.
Sometimes the table was graced with immense apple-pies, or saucers full of preserved peaches and pears; but it was always sure to boast an enormous dish of balls of sweetened dough, fried in hog's fat, and called doughnuts, or olykoeks - a delicious kind of cake, at present scarce known in this city, except in genuine Dutch families.
In a heartbeat, a thousand voices took up the chant. King Joffrey and King Robb and King Stannis were forgotten, and King Bread ruled alone. "Bread." they clamored. "Bread, Bread!
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