“You have to be a romantic to invest yourself, your money, and your time in cheese.”

Our movements through time and space seem somehow trivial compared to a heap of boiled meat in broth, the smell of saffron, garlic, fishbone, and Pernod.

Don’t touch my dick, don’t touch my knife.

I’ve long believed that good food, good eating, is all about risk.

I lurched away from the table after a few hours feeling like Elvis in Vegas – fat, drugged, and completely out of it.

Skills can be taught. Character you either have or you don’t have.

Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life—and travel—leaves marks on you.

The way you make an omelet reveals your character.

Your body is not a temple, it’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.

Frightened people become angry people – as history teaches us again and again.

Food had power. It could inspire, astonish, shock, excite, delight and impress. It had the power to please me .

People confuse me. Food doesn’t.

Luck is not a business model.

To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living.

I don’t have to agree with you to like you or respect you.

Perhaps omelet skills should be learned at the same time you learn to fuck.

Garlic is divine. Few food items can taste so many distinct ways, handled correctly. Misuse of garlic is a crime, Please, treat your garlic with respect.

I was not created to be occupied by eating delicious foods like tied up cattle.

You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six.

I love to eat – Kit Kats or cookies-and-cream ice cream. I need sugar like five times a day.

The menu is not the meal.

Eating out doesn’t have to be a formula. Eating out is about having fun. I get really frustrated when it’s badly done.

I cook for a living; I’m not a scheduler.

I am well aware that a chef is only as good as his last meal.

I am well aware that a chef is only as good as his last meal.