My father would always tell me that creativity didn't matter at the diner. When I was probably 14 or 15, I would put - I mean, it was a no-nonsense place - but I would try to put a sprig of parsley or orange curl on the omelets, or something like that. He'd be like "Don't do that!"

I lived my whole life in the kitchen. Not only that, but it's the passion, it's the love for cooking and food. It's dictated my entire life — every aspect of it. So, in some ways, the thought of not being able to do that anymore radically affects your life.

Food can be expressive and therefore food can be art.

My personality was always such that I always look straight forward, never behind or to the side.

People like to think the creative process is romantic. The artist drifts to sleep at night, to be awakened by the subliminal echoes of his or her next brilliant idea. The truth, for me at least, is that creativity is primarily the result of hard work and study.

It's not really the life of cooking that's hard - it's what you make of it and what level you push yourself to.

I had D minuses in chemistry and all of the sciences, and now I'm known as a molecular gastronomist.