Cooking certain dishes, like roast pork, reminds me of my mother.

I think I should learn French and be a better cook – basic, really good life stuff.

Cooking is about passion, so it may look slightly temperamental in a way that it’s too assertive to the naked eye.

The mother of a family should look upon her housekeeping and the planning of meals as a scientific occupation.

Life began with waking up and loving my mother’s face.

I was very worried about my mother, growing up – a lot. I do not want my children to be worried about me.

If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence.

Thanks to my mother, not a single cardboard box has found its way back into society. We receive gifts in boxes from stores that went out of business twenty years ago.

I wasn’t that great a chef, and I don’t think I’m that great a writer.

In fact, you couldn’t give me anything to make me go back to being a teenager. Never. No, I hated it.

It’s still scary every time I go back to the past. Each morning, my heart catches. When I get there, I remember how the light was, where the draft was coming from, what odors were in the air. When I write, I get all the weeping out.

My mother made me truly appreciate women.

‚Kitchen Confidential‘ wasn’t a cautionary or an expose. I wrote it as an entertainment for New York tri-state area line cooks and restaurant lifers, basically; I had no expectation that it would move as far west as Philadelphia.

I cook, I create, I’m incredibly excited by what I do, I’ve still got a lot to achieve.

Memories are the key not to the past, but to the future.

My mom had Julia Child and ‚The Fannie Farmer Cookbook‘ on top of the refrigerator, and she had a small repertoire of French dishes.

My mother would kill me if I posed nude! My mother raised me with certain standards.

My mother taught children to love to dance.

When I was younger we had a grape arbor, and my mom would go out and pick grapes and make grape jam in the sink – boil it, put it in jars, and give it away as gifts.

My mother always wanted to give back.

Governing a great nation is like cooking a small fish – too much handling will spoil it.

If my mother knew I did this for a living, she’d kill me. She thinks I’m selling dope.

Every three months, I’ll say, ‚Honey, I think I should learn how to cook‘.

Some of my foster families used to send me to the movies to get me out of the house and there I’d sit all day and way into the night. Up in front, there with the screen so big, a little kid all alone, and I loved it. I loved anything that moved up there and I didn’t miss anything that happened and there was no popcorn either.

I’m a decent cook; I’m a decent chef. None of my friends would ever have hired me at any point in my career. Period.

My mother was always fascinated with the fact that I could rhyme so much stuff.

When I was a child I asked my mother what homosexuality was about and she said – and this was 100 years ago in Germany and she was very open-minded – ‚It’s like hair color. It’s nothing. Some people are blond and some people have dark hair. It’s not a subject.‘ This was a very healthy attitude.

The scab is a traitor to his God, his mother, and his class.

Whatever the reasons may be, I was very much affected by events of the 1930s – the Spanish Civil War, for example, though I was barely literate.

My dinners at home are startlingly simple. Every night, I stop at the market near my hotel and pick up a steak, lamb chops or some liver, which I broil in the electric oven in my room. I usually eat four or five raw carrots with my meat, and that is all. I must be part rabbit; I never get bored with raw carrots.

Writing’s just as natural to me as getting up and cooking breakfast.

I’m not trying to take New York by storm. I just want to sneak in there, keep my head down, batten down the hatches and cook.

Rose Adams is a wonderful Christian woman who cared for my mother, Morrow Coffey Graham, in her last years of life.

Memories are thoughts that arise. They’re not realities. Only when you believe that they are real, then they have the power over you. But when you realize it’s just another thought arising about the past, then you can have a spacious relationship with that thought. The thought no longer has you in its grip.

I left Mainz after 18 years and thought, ‚Next time, I will work with a little less of my heart.‘ I said that because we all cried for a week. The city gave us a goodbye party, and it lasted a week.

I’ve always liked older ladies, ever since my mother would have B’nai B’rith at our house.

All of my walls are covered with framed pictures of my friends.

A mother deserves a day off to care for a sick child or sick parent without running into hardship – and you know what, a father does, too. It’s time to do away with workplace policies that belong in a ‚Mad Men‘ episode.

Would I swap what I have achieved as a cook if I could have been as successful as a footballer? Definitely.

When I cook for my family on Christmas, I make feijoada, a South American dish of roasted and smoked meats like ham, pork, beef, lamb, and bacon – all served with black beans and rice. It’s festive but different.

Cooking today is a young man’s game, I don’t give a bollocks what anyone says.

In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield.

Until 1914 I loved to travel; I often went to Italy and once spent a few months in India. Since then I have almost entirely abandoned travelling, and I have not been outside of Switzerland for over ten years.

Being a housewife and a mother is the biggest job in the world, but if it doesn’t interest you, don’t do it – I would have made a terrible mother.

A man always remembers his first love with special tenderness, but after that he begins to bunch them.

My mother came from India to go to the University of California, Berkeley.

Kitchens are hard environments and they form incredibly strong characters.

It’s a big compliment that so many people want to see me. For them, it’s all about football. That’s what they remember about me.

I’m just someone who likes cooking and for whom sharing food is a form of expression.

I still close my eyes and go home – I can always draw from that.

Living is like tearing through a museum. Not until later do you really start absorbing what you saw, thinking about it, looking it up in a book, and remembering – because you can’t take it in all at once.

The things hardest to bear are sweetest to remember.

No one can look back on his schooldays and say with truth that they were altogether unhappy.

Nature is our eldest mother; she will do no harm.

My mother was a schoolteacher and very keen that I go to a city school, so although it was fairly impoverished times, I traveled every day to the Auckland Grammar School.

The vulgar boil, the learned roast, an egg.

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.

Christmas is the perfect time to celebrate the love of God and family and to create memories that will last forever. Jesus is God’s perfect, indescribable gift. The amazing thing is that not only are we able to receive this gift, but we are able to share it with others on Christmas and every other day of the year.

I’m more of a realist when it comes to life, and I’d much rather my mother be in a spiritual place in Heaven than in a bed, sick, fighting for her life.

I can’t remember what made my dad take us karting for the first time, I can’t remember really. I was into motorsport by then and I knew everything, and every driver, it was around 2009, 2008. That’s when I first properly knew about Formula One. Those were the days.