Like the theater, offering food and hospitality to people is a matter of showmanship, and no matter how simple the performance, unless you do it well, with love and originality, you have a flop on your hands.
I’m going to break one of the rules of the trade here. I’m going to tell you some of the secrets of improvisation. Just remember – it’s always a good idea to follow the directions exactly the first time you try a recipe. But from then on, you’re on your own.
Be simple. Be honest. Don’t overcook and don’t undercook, but it’s better to undercook than overcook.
It’s foolish to go through life bemoaning the fact that you can’t have this or that. Twaddle! You can omit certain foods and still enjoy eating.
It is true thrift to use the best ingredients available and to waste nothing.
I’ve long said that if I were about to be executed and were given a choice of my last meal, it would be bacon and eggs.
The kitchen, reasonably enough, was the scene of my first gastronomic adventure. I was on all fours. I crawled into the vegetable bin, settled on a giant onion and ate it, skin and all. It must have marked me for life, for I have never ceased to love the hearty flavor of raw onions.
Grilling, broiling, barbecuing – whatever you want to call it – is an art, not just a matter of building a pyre and throwing on a piece of meat as a sacrifice to the gods of the stomach.
Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.
Hands are our earliest tools. Cooking starts with the hands which are so sensitive that when they touch something they transmit messages to your brain about texture and temperature.
The roe of the Russian sturgeon has probably been present at more important international affairs than have all the Russian dignitaries of history combined. This seemingly simple article of diet has taken its place in the world along with pearls, sables, old silver, and Cellini cups.
Goodness, how much there is to learn about food!
I have had, in my time, memorable meals of scrambled eggs with fresh truffles, scrambled eggs with caviar and other glamorous things, but to me, there are few things as magnificent as scrambled eggs, pure and simple, perfectly cooked and perfectly seasoned.
No vegetable exists which is not better slightly undercooked.
I’m really enamored of the potato in all its guises.
If you have never tasted a braised vegetable, you’ll find it is a revelation.
I am so happy to see more and more people in this country are becoming addicted to cheese.
Good cheese needs good companions.
Too many simple green salads suffer from a lack of imagination.
In a house without a genuine kitchen, one of the delights of growing up is lost.
Taste every time you cook, and take nothing for granted – not even your own palate, for it can change. Mine has... Since doing time on a salt-free diet, I approach a plain baked potato reverently. Maybe I’ve been missing the truth – the nutty, delicate earthiness of a perfect baked potato. Salt only masks it. In a fancy mood, I heighten it with caviar; in a plain mood, I just give it several grinds of fresh black pepper.