All Quotes tagged Cheese(18)

the new grocery store sells real cheese, edging out
the plastic bodega substitute. the new neighbors

know how to feed their children, treat themselves
to oysters sometimes. other times, to brunch. finally,

some good pastrami around these parts. new cafe
on broadway. new trees in the sidewalk. everyone

can breathe a little easier. neighborhood association
throws a block party. builds a dog park right

in the middle of the baseball field. crime watch listserv
snaps photos of suspicious natives. how’d all these ghosts

get in my yard? cop on speed dial. arrange flowers
as the radio croons orders. rubber on tar,

skin on steel. an army of macbook pros guarding
its french presses. revival pioneers. meanwhile,

white college grads curse their racist neighbors,
get drunk at olneyville warehouse punk shows,

ride their bikes on the right side of the road, say west end
like a badge, while folks on the other side of cranston street

shake their heads and laugh. interrogation lamps
burning down their stoops. banks gutting their houses.

i look more like the cambodian kids against that wall
than any of my roommates. but feel safest within two miles

of an espresso machine. look around at parties and think,
fresh saplings. revival pioneers. know folks look at me

on my bike and think, ivy league. dog park. treat yourself
to a neighborhood sometimes. none of this land is mine

but our footprints are everywhere. silent battlefront
we new settlers shove into our back pockets,

lump in our collective throat as we chase a new world,
sweep the foyer, promise we’ll help clean up the mess.

Jean Girard: [has Ricky in an arm lock] I will let you go, Ricky. But first, I want you to say...'I... love... crepes.'

Cal Naughton, Jr.: Don't you say it, Ricky. These colors don't run.

Ricky Bobby: I'm not gonna say it.

Cal Naughton, Jr.: Good.

Ricky Bobby: Hey, look, Frenchie, I thought about it. So why don't you go ahead and break my arm?

Jean Girard: I do not want to break your arm, Monsieur Bobby, but I am a man of my word.

Ricky Bobby: Here's the deal. He's not gonna break it because I'm gonna slip out of it right now. Houdini! [he tries unsuccessfully to get free]

Jean Girard: Whoa! Get down, you little pancake.

Ricky Bobby: Someone might as well get me a beer while I'm down here.

Jean Girard: But you have forced me to do this. You are now mocking me and making me look ridiculous. Just say, 'I love crepes.'

Cal Naughton, Jr.: You know, just to put this in there, I had a whole mess of crepes this morning. They're just like pancakes, maybe even better.

Ricky Bobby: Wait, are they the really thin pancakes?

Cal Naughton, Jr.: Yeah.

Jean Girard: Yes, they are. They are the really thin pancakes. It's just a French word for them.

Ricky Bobby: Oh, my God, I love those.

Cal Naughton, Jr.: Put any syrups you want on them. I'm just saying, think about it.

Ricky Bobby: They come with cheese sometimes?

Jean Girard: Yes, of course, a fromage-crepe.

Ricky Bobby: Well, why didn't someone yell that right—right away?

Jean Girard: Do you know what's in the crepe suzette?

Ricky Bobby: Oh, I love the crepe suzette.

Jean Girard: With the sugar and lemon juice...

Ricky Bobby: Yeah, the sugar and the lemon juice. Sure.

Jean Girard: Grand Marnier.

Ricky Bobby: I wo—I wish I could crawl into one of those right now. I'd eat my way out from the inside.