In this world of uncertainty and woe, one thing remains unchanged: Fresh, canned, pureed, dried, salted, sliced, and served with sugar and cream, or pressed into juice, the tomato is reliable, friendly, and delicious. We would be nothing without it.

No one who cooks, cooks alone. Even at her most solitary, a cook in the kitchen is surrounded by generations of cooks past, the advice and menus of cooks present, the wisdom of cookbook writers.

Both happy and sad people can be cheered up by a nice meal.

There is nothing like soup. It is by nature eccentric: no two are ever alike, unless of course you get your soup in a can.

On Saturday mornings I would walk to the Flavor Cup or Puerto Rico Importing coffee store to get my coffee. Often it was freshly roasted and the beans were still warm. Coffee was my nectar and my ambrosia: I was very careful about it. I decanted my beans into glass...and I ground them in little batches in my grinder.

The best way to eat crabs, as everyone knows, is off newspaper at a large table with a large number of people.

For the socially timid, the kitchen is the place to be. At least, it is a place to start.