I don't have to write jokes. I don't have to write insults. If you ask the man of the hour in the hot seat, my mere existence is clearly insult enough.

Be real. Make connections with people. Look them in the eye. Tell them how you feel. Don't be afraid to say what you mean. When you let go of the stuff you hold inside, you'll be amazed at what comes back to you.

I'm not a chef. I haven't created any new technique in the kitchen. I'm not a rocket scientist. I think I'm good at writing accessible, fun, and affordable meals for the average American family. That's what I think I'm good at.

I work too much to be an appropriate parent. I feel like a bad mom to my dog [Isaboo, a pit bull] some days because I’m just not here enough. I just feel like I would do a bad job if I took the time to literally give birth to a kid right now and try and juggle everything I’m doing.

I measure in my palm and use my eyes to estimate amounts; a tablespoon is a full palm of dried spices.

I'm an all-things-in-moderation kind of person. I do eat a warm donut occasionally. I especially enjoy a cider donut when I'm apple picking. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

I do know what my first meal in the next world would be Spaghetti Aglio e Olio, heavy on everything.