I admired the English immensely for all that they had endured, and they were certainly honorable, and stopped their cars for pedestrians, and called you “sir” and “madam,” and so on. But after a week there, I began to feel wild. It was those ruddy English faces, so held in by duty, the sense of “what is done” and “what is not done,” and always swigging tea and chirping, that made me want to scream like a hyena

The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you've got to have a what-the-hell attitude.

I never feel lonely in the kitchen. Food is very friendly.

Just like becoming an expert in wine–you learn by drinking it, the best you can afford–you learn about great food by finding the best there is, whether simply or luxurious. The you savor it, analyze it, and discuss it with your companions, and you compare it with other experiences.

Sooner or later the public will forget you; the memory of you will fade. What's important are the individuals you've influenced along the way.

Always start out with a larger pot than what you think you need.

Freshness is essential. That makes all the difference.