Unlike some people, who love to go out, I love to stay home.

I come from a coffee-loving family, and you can always tell when my sister and I have been around, because both of us collect all the dead coffee from everyone's morning cup, pour it over ice, and drink it. This is a disgusting habit.

That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden: layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional.

It is always wise to make too much potato salad. Even if you are cooking for two, make enough for five. Potato salad improves with age - that is, if you are lucky enough to have any left over.

No one who cooks cooks alone.

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.

Many people eat salad dutifully because they feel it is good for them, but more enlightened types eat it happily because it is good.