Edible Book Day: Excerpts to Salivate Over
Rejoice, food and book lovers! This week, we celebrate Edible Book Day, which is a day where people from all over the world show off their culinary creativity by turning their favorite foods into their favorite books. (If you’ve never heard of this holiday, Google it. The pictures are *chef’s kiss.*)
Here at Midnight Tide Publishing, we’re taking our own spin on this bookish, foodish celebration by featuring some of our favorite foods found in our favorite books while giving you a sneak peek into the writing style of some of our authors. So tuck your tablecloth into your collar and get ready to salivate vicariously through these food-related MTP excerpts.
Merciless Stars by Candace Robinson
Blueberry Tarts & Tension
Keelen scooped up an egg and cracked it over his open mouth, then placed the shell inside, chewing. She was at a loss for words as she studied the pleasurable expression on his face while he consumed the uncooked egg … and shell. While Silver tried to fight a smile, she watched as he picked up another.
She ripped it from his hand. “Do you want to eat raw eggs all day? Or do you want me to make the tarts? Because I need the eggs.”
“Raw—”
“Only one more.” With a roll of her eyes, she handed him another egg then mixed the water and flour before adding the remainder of the ingredients.
As the tarts cooked for a long while, the silence between them was growing louder. Screaming. Screeching.
The Curse of Flour & Feeling by Lou Wilham
Blowtorch > Buttercream
"Why did you choose lemon?"
Hari shrugged. "I thought it'd be refreshing since we're having pizza for dinner. Plus when Yuuki does them he makes a lemon meringue icing, and the blowtorch looks really cool."
Darci blinked for a moment, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. "Have you ever made a meringue before?"
"Well... no."
"We'll do a buttercream."
"But the blowtorch..."
"Meringues are too hard if you don't have a stand mixer. Next time, I'll bring my stand mixer and we can try a meringue."
Come True by Brindi Quinn
Fry Lust
That straightens him up. “Yowch. You don’t seem the type.” He sizes me up with new interest.
“I know. I mean, I’m not.”
“Then why’d you do it?” he asks bluntly.
My throat protests. That’s more detail than I wanted to share. Just in time, the waitress returns with Velis’s greasy-bunned burger, gleaming beneath the dimmed lighting, and my barrel of fries and that succulent, drippy ranch I’ve tasted so many times in my dreams.
Torture.
Of all the difficult moments over the last fifty weeks, this is the most brutal. The smell of it wafts into me, more tempting than a harlot. Velis watches me darkly, shivering.
“Nice.”
Does he get off on seeing me drool over fries?!
The Siren’s Song by Heather Kindt
Flicking Blueberries
“Lilith and Sheriden.” Case took a swig of his milk and a strange expression crossed his lips. He stuck his fingers in his drink and removed a handful of blueberries.
Fivlon pressed his lips together but couldn’t help laughing. “I guess it’s obvious who the true winner of the catapult game is now.”
Case slapped him on the side of the head, making the ache in his heart from missing Maddox a little less razor sharp.
“That sounds like rumors, Case. Unless you have proof, don’t spread that garbage.” He shoved a mouthful of eggs into his mouth, tasting the familiar tartness of blueberries overwhelming his tastebuds. Not bothering to swallow, he spoke with his mouth full. “How in the world did you get blueberries into my eggs?”
Case lifted a shoulder. “You stare at that artisan girl too much. It was easy.”
After swallowing his eggs, his mouth hung open. “I don’t stare at an artisan girl.”
The Devil You Know by Nicole Northwood
A Vintage Red
Pulling a vintage pinot noir from the side of the kitchen island, I uncork the bottle with a pop and pour it into two stemless glasses before heading to the window to look out at the city with, well, whatever his name is.
“Here’s to tonight.” I pass the glass over and we toast before taking a sip. “I’m Cam. I run all this.”
“I know,” Raven Hair replies, clearly savoring the aged pinot. He doesn’t look at me, watching the lights glimmer and dance before us instead. I squint a little at his somewhat familiar face, examining the reflection of the city in his dark eyes. “Everyone up there knows who you are, Cam.”
“Fair enough.” I drink another half-mouthful of wine, not feeling anything except a mild amount of restraint. I feel some kind of need for this man, but I also feel like I don’t want to get pinot on my expensive white rug by moving too quickly to get to the point of all this song and dance.
Emmie and the Tudor King by Natalie Murray
Feast for a King
As Viscount Hereford’s Ode to Himself continued, I took my chance to look the king’s way again. He was gracefully accepting a parade of dishes presented before him—roasted whole turkeys, pigeons and pigs, enough breads and cheeses to feed a village, vegetable towers assembled like desserts, and a baked swan redressed in its own feathers.
When two servants carefully carried the final platter to the king’s table chased by a sweaty chef, Hereford’s breath moved to my ear. “Watch closely.”
“For what?”
“Magic.”
The chef slowly lifted the lid, uncovering a gigantic roasted partridge. When he brought the knife to the bird’s chest, I felt my eyes pull upward. Nicholas the Ironheart was looking right at me, a bolt of electricity charging down both my arms and legs. He held the eye contact until my cheeks flushed, his mouth curling up slightly. A second later, five pigeons flapped right out of the partridge’s open cavity, breaking the moment.
Seeds of Sorrow by Elle Beaumont & Christis Christie
Missing Snacks
“By the sun . . . What are you doing here?” Eden choked out. She plucked him up only to sit him on the edge of her bed. “It isn’t safe here.” She paused. It wasn’t as if Andhera was safe either, but Lucem wasn’t a place for little goblins. “This isn’t Andhera. Besides, Draven will be upset with you.”
So that’s where my snacks had disappeared to, she thought.
All of those extra slices of fruit bread, honey cakes, and tarts had fed Drizz over the past few days. At least he wasn’t starving.
Secrets of a Rose by Adina Chiles
Swaggelberries
It feels like we dance forever before I excuse myself and make my way to the most elegant table I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid to touch anything. Knowing me, one wrong move and every piece of crystal will find a way to shatter.
Thirst makes me cave and I down a glass containing a sweet, pink liquid. The fizzy drink even tastes fancy.
Krispin joins me, leaving Jewels to dance with her new friends. He drinks three glasses of the pink drink and shovels in fruit and cookies between sips.
I spot green and blue swirls on a triangular berry. The skin spiking with thorns—ready for eating. Swaggelberries.
Swaggelberries are a Zyra delicacy. But the berries without thorns are extremely poisonous. My mother always says, “A few drops are enough to make anyone fall asleep, but eat the whole darn thing and you’ll be silenced forever.”
“Please don’t choke on me.” I say to Krispin, who stuffs in a tart. “I do not know how to save you.”
Heart and Hero by Gianne Rabena
Pancit Malabon & Bibingka
“Over here, Karla. We bought bibingka for the meeting.”
Andre was surprised Karla wasn’t dizzy yet from having to turn her head. He leaned back against the wall next to Lee, content that none of the attention had wandered onto him like he’d initially worried.
“Have one, oh. Here, don’t be shy,” Courtney said, the only senior in the room. Courtney was just a couple of inches taller than Karla, but still shorter than most of the other senior girls. Despite this, she was the kind of person one tended to pay attention to, apart from a bright wardrobe, she always had the sweetest smile on her face; this she wore promptly as she seemed the only one to remember Andre.
“Oh, Andre, why are you so quiet? Merienda, you like?”
“Uhm, thank you. I’m good.”
“We’ll have pancit malabon later,” Agnes added. “Chester and Josh are picking it up.”
“Is there a birthday celebration?” Karla asked, looking at Cass who had gone in and out of the pantry, already drinking water from a paper cup.
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