Yotam Ottolenghi Quotes

Pasta with melted cheese is the one thing I could eat over and over again.

Brunch, for me, is an extended breakfast that should be enjoyed whenever you have time properly to engage in cooking and eating.

A well-made salad must have a certain uniformity; it should make perfect sense for those ingredients to share a bowl.

The combination of olive oil, garlic and lemon juice lifts the spirits in winter.

Breakfast is always the best time for something juicy, sweet and fresh - it just feels like the right way to open the day. There's no right way, though, when it comes to choosing the fruit.

Just-poached vegetables show off their natural attributes, and taste fresh and light in a way you never get with roasting or frying.

Mothers and grandmothers: these are the people that I admire most, not so much chefs.

Date syrup is a natural sweetener that has wonderful richness and treacly depth; I drizzle it over semolina porridge.

The way to entice people into cooking is to cook delicious things.

For me, the end of childhood came when the number of candles on my birthday cake no longer reflected my age, around 19 or 20. From then on, each candle came to represent an entire decade.

Some heat, some spice and plenty of citrus are the building blocks of many north African fish dishes.

You dont need a machine to make pasta: a rolling pin and a fast hand can create a smooth, if thick, sheet.

Pizza was made for television in so many ways: it is easy to heat up, easy to divide and easy to eat in a group. It is easy to enjoy, easy to digest and easy-going. It is so Italian!

Dad likes my food, but he probably thinks it's too busy. He is a wonderful cook but only uses three ingredients. My mum rips out my articles and makes my recipes.

For those, like me, who can't rely on being given a home smoker this Christmas, you can build your own approximation with just a roll of tin foil and a big wok or pan for which you have a lid.

My dad makes food with very few delicate flavours.

The teaching thing, the one where I have to impart my knowledge, is probably what comes the least naturally to me because I'm an absorber of things.

I always preferred my father's pasta the next day, when he'd put it in a hot oven with heaps of extra cheese. It would emerge slightly burned and very crisp on top.

The smells of slow cooking spread around the house and impart a unique warmth matched only by the flavour of the food.

One man's trash is another man's treasure, and the by-product from one food can be perfect for making another.

Food that's served at the table in a paper parcel always creates a remarkable culinary moment when opened, because the package is full of aromatic steam from the lightly cooked ingredients inside.

Way back when I was a junior pastry chef, I'd bake loads of muffins every morning, as many as 120 or so, while operating on autopilot.

Braising eggs in a flavoursome, aromatic sauce is all the rage. It is warming and comforting, ideal for the morning when you are not normally up for a great culinary challenge.

I have a terrible tendency to lick my fingers when I cook. So much so that I got a telling off from my pastry teacher years ago, who said it would hinder my prospects.

Apart from its famous healing properties, manuka has a strong, woody flavour.

Tiny quails may not seem as impressive as a mammoth turkey, but there is something refreshing about a spread of individual birds on the Christmas table.