A Quote by Theresa May

I will not allow a Delia Smith cookbook in my house! It's all so precise with Delia, and it makes cooking seem so inaccessible. — © Theresa May
I will not allow a Delia Smith cookbook in my house! It's all so precise with Delia, and it makes cooking seem so inaccessible.
That was a weird thought. My straight-up mother being bothered by faeries? Delia was even weirder. I could picture the scene. Faerie: Come away, human. Delia: Why? Faerie: Untold delights and youth forever. Delia: I'm holding out for a better offer. Ta.
Delia picked at the raw sores of her conscience...Drunk or sober, Delia lived in the small town in her heart, ignoring the world in which all her love had turned to grief.
Delia Smith is, actually, my bete noire. I consider her a most pernicious influence.
The most followed chef is Delia Smith. She is my age and doesn't try to be entertaining, she encourages people to learn the basics.
I would figure out, later, how to explain to my boss that, for me, Delia will never be a story, but a happy ending.
Delia was an overbearing cake with condescending frosting, and frankly, I was on a diet.
Everyone thinks when they start writing that they can't do it. I was lucky. My sister Delia was the most important person in terms of encouraging me.
When I was in elementary school, I was a big fan of the zip-off pants that could be turned into shorts. The Delia's catalog used to be my bible.
When I was in elementary school I was a big fan of the zip-off pants that could be turned into shorts. The Delia's catalog used to be my bible.
I love the Bronte sisters, but I feel a closer kinship to the Ephron sisters, Nora and Delia, if only because their work makes me laugh more than the Brontes. I also love the Mitford sisters with their secret language and their endless letters back and forth.
Delia's arms were inscribed with a grid of self- inflicted wounds, an intricate text of self-loathing
As we got older, we grew comfortable in roles that met our parents' expectations. Nora was the smart one. Delia, the comedian. I was the pretty, obedient one. And Amy was the adventurous mischief-maker.
I knew her well enough to understand that when Delia pushed you away, it was her way of making sure she didn't get shoved first.
I was a decent cook - competent enough to turn out the standard Eighties chalet fare: beef Wellington, banoffee pie, Delia's chocolate bread-and-butter pudding - but it wasn't haute cuisine.
The thing about Wes," Delia said to me, unwrapping another package of turkey, "is that he thinks he can fix anything. And if he can't fix it, he can at least do something with the pieces of what's broken.
A song stylist is, like, to take an old folk song like "Delia's Gone" and do a modern white man's version of it.
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