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.
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.
Unlicensed hooch from a stranger in a parking lot. Good idea? Yes, of course it is.
When dealing with complex transportation issues, the best thing to do is pull up with a cold beer and let somebody else figure it out.
I need the anesthetic qualities of the local fire water.
Always entertain the possibility that something, no matter how squiggly and scary looking, might just be good.
I look at Guy Fieri and I just think, ‘Jesus, I’m glad that’s not me.’
There are very sophisticated, very time-consuming dishes to prepare; always from scratch, and always in excess of what you could possibly need. You tend to kill your guests with kindness around here.
Cream rises. Excellence does have its rewards.
I’m not going anywhere. I hope. It’s been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
There are people with otherwise chaotic and disorganized lives, a certain type of person that’s always found a home in the restaurant business in much the same way that a lot of people find a home in the military.
I’m never a reliable narrator, unbiased or objective.
I’m a Twitter addict. Jose Andres is a serial tweeter. It’s funny to see which chefs have embraced it, and the different paths they take.