I'm really enamored of the potato in all its guises.

I believe that if ever I had to practice cannibalism, I might manage if there were enough tarragon around.

What comforted me? That is easy. It was a strong cold chicken jelly so very, very thick. My mother's Chinese cook would fix it. He would cook it down, condense it-this broth with all sorts of feet in it, then it would gell into sheer bliss. It kept me alive once for three weeks when I was ill as a child. And I've always craved it since.

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.

If you have never tasted a braised vegetable, you'll find it is a revelation.

Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.

Good bread and good butter go together. They are one of the perfect marriages in gastronomy, and they never fail to cheer me.