There is the just-set yolk, then beneath that a mushroom duxelle cooked down in a sweet sherry.
Mr. Ronan, beer in hand and clad in a No. 20 Thomas Jones jersey, then rushed beneath a tent to huddle with a buddy, Stephen Moore, a telephone repairman from Massapequa Park, who wore a No. 56 Lance Mehl jersey.
You were wearing the same worsted coat, now worsened by time, as you neatly stepped along the opposite sidewalk, hair coiled then crushed beneath a hat like a velour cowpat.
The thinly sliced meat is well executed, cooked to just pink in the middle, then hidden beneath a volcano of buttery, garlicky mashed green plantains.
It is an intellectual, quasi-academic text filled with digressions on "Gravity's Rainbow" and V-2 rockets delivered in a hallucinatory haste — and then, beneath the allusions, it is a love story about the narrator's grandparents, who could never entirely be free of the terrors they witnessed.
"You've got the 'A' story and then beneath that something totally at odds with it.
Every now and then, beneath the photogenic white surface, a patch of dirty brown will appear.
Then, beneath those guys, there's a chaotic sea of smaller startups promising some cheap thrill in exchange for us opting in with our data — so they have a chance to grow as powerful as the platforms they cling to.
They then pass beneath an array of needles, which draw fluid from each.
