I have no formal culinary training, right.

It wasn't about mechanics; it was about a feeling, wanting to give someone something, which in turn was really gratifying. That really resonated for me.

They know what my standards are. They know what I need and how to get it to me, and they know how to communicate with me if for some reason they can't get it.

I think that's the important thing - being aware of that inspiration and being able to interpret it into something that's meaningful for you.

I can make dough in a machine faster than I can make it by hand, but I want to make it by hand, because I want to remember the way it feels. It's so important for me to make it by hand - whether it's a pasta dough or a pâte brisée. You become involved in it. You become personal with it. For me it's such a wonderful way to get satisfaction and gratification when I'm cooking.

When you acknowledge, as you must, that there is no such thing as perfect food, only the idea of it, then the real purpose of striving toward perfection becomes clear: to make people happy, that is what cooking is all about.

A kaiseki meal is like that, very small courses over a long period of time.