The bible of cooking. The all-time argument ender. Early in my cooking career, I wielded my Larousse like a weapon and it never let me down.
Writing anything is a treason of sorts.
I, personally, think there is a really danger of taking food too seriously. Food should be part of the bigger picture.
Where once they used to say, ‘Cocaine is God’s way of saying you have too much money’ – now, maybe EDM is. Come ye lords and princelings of douchedom.
I believe – to the best of my recollection, anyway – that I soon made the classic error of moving from margaritas to actual shots of straight tequila. It does make it easier to meet new people.
It’s been about a week without alcohol of any kind. I’m enjoying my new, clean-living lifestyle.
It’s that show Friends. Ruined coffee forever.
Regret is something you’ve got to just live with, you can’t drink it away. You can’t run away from it. You can’t trick yourself out of it. You’ve just got to own it.
I urge you to travel – as far and as widely as possible. Sleep on floors if you have to.
I won’t eat in a restaurant with filthy bathrooms. This isn’t a hard call. They let you see the bathrooms. If the restaurant can’t be bothered to replace the puck in the urinal or keep the toilets and floors clean, then just imagine what their refrigeration and work spaces look like.
Recognise excellence. Celebrate weirdness and innovation. Oddballs should be cherished, if they can do something other people can’t do.
A proper saute pan should cause serious head injury if brought down hard against someone else’s skull. If you have any doubts about which will dent, the victim’s head or your pan, then throw that pan right in the trash.
Open your mind, get up off the couch, move.
Without Montreal, Canada would be hopeless.
If you have a good experience in a restaurant, you tell 2 people. If you have a bad experience, you tell 10 people.
It’s very rarely a good career move to have a conscience.
I could eat bloody Elvis – if you put enough vinegar on him.
New Orleans is a glorious mutation.
There’s something wonderful about drinking in the afternoon. A not-too-cold pint, absolutely alone at the bar – even in this fake-ass Irish pub.
This is the dream of all the world. The dream is to live in Granada. You know, work in the morning, have a one-hour nap in the afternoon, and at night go out and have that life. Go out and see your friends and eat tapas and drink red wine and be in a beautiful place.