I don't believe in low-fat cooking.

I am not a chef. I am not even a trained or professional cook. My qualification is as an eater.

You could probably get through life without knowing how to roast a chicken, but the question is, would you want to?

I was a quiet teenager, introverted, full of angst.

You cannot truly say you live well unless you eat well.

Sometimes...we don't want to feel like a postmodern, postfeminist, overstretched woman but, rather, a domestic goddess, trailing nutmeggy fumes of baking pie in our languorous wake.

Sometimes it's good just to be seduced by the particular cheeses spread out in front of you on a cheese counter.

I am always surprised when people read double entendres into my innocuous babble.

I don't believe you can ever really cook unless you love eating.

I never taste the wine first in restaurants, I just ask the waiter to pour.

Cooking is actually quite aggressive and controlling and sometimes, yes, there is an element of force-feeding going on.

First partakers of love are always enveloped with the real intention

Then you have to be nothing. Want nothing. You can't have them-Kat or Annabel-if you need them. You're not a husband. You're not a father. You're a man with a task. Understand?

I regard romantic comedies as a subgenre of sci-fi, in which the world operates according to different rules than my regular human world.

Committing yourself to some kind of job that isn't committed to God is going to bring so much trouble into your life. It's not good and not something I would suggest that someone seek.

I’ve always loved fairytales, and I’ve loved the concept of, um, some of the best parts of a lot of stories are the beginning.

That's all I did - that's all I ever did - try to do what Billy Strayhorn did.

I say on the air all time, "if you take what I say as gospel, you're an idiot."

As for health, consider yourself well.

For many weeks after [my wife] died, I could not get used to the feeling of coldness and lifelessness on her side of the bed - and it was even worse when they took the body away and buried her.

Free men have arms; slaves do not.