Quotes from Jean-Georges Vongerichten

My mother worked in a chocolate factory, so when I came home from school, I had a piece of baguette with dark chocolate in it. I remember her smelling like chocolate.

I landed in 1980 in Bangkok, and I stopped to eat ten times between the airport and the hotel. It was all lemongrass and ginger and chilies.

Our best hits are real-estate stories, going back to our first, JoJo in 1991.

When I arrived in New York, I was at the Drake hotel for five years; so, yeah, I really miss hotels. It's like having friends stay at your home. Every day you get to treat them, not only to dinner, but for breakfast, and everything throughout the day.

The dish that changed my life was tom yum kum. You start with a pot of water, add lemongrass, lime leaves, lime juice, coriander, mushrooms, and shrimp; ten minutes later, you have the most incredible, intense soup.

The toughest decision is always whether to open a restaurant. Two or three bad months, and you could be out of business.

My two essential ingredients are chilies, any kind, dried or fresh; and acid, whether it's citrus - lemon, lime, yuzu - or vinegars. Food has to pop.

My kitchen in New York City is in the Richard Meier building on Perry Street, so it's ultra-modern: white, glass and transparent. It's 180 square feet, with an induction stove. Everything's hidden, so you don't see the microwave or the fridge.

I love cooking, but I love the business, too. It's important because a lot of chefs forget the business side and have to shut down after six months.

I think, when I was younger, I was cooking to impress. Sometimes the dish would have 15 things on the plate. That's cooking only for yourself. As you get more mature, you take all the superfluous things away, and you get the essential flavor. Now I cook for people, not for myself.

When you do a menu at a restaurant, you have to be the engineer of that menu. It has to be a crowd-pleaser.

The role of a chef isn't to reinvent dishes but to tweak.

Spice Market was just a big investment on lots of different levels.

Food for me has to pop, and at Spice Market, the food really pops.

When I went to London, they told me I spoke with a funny accent - English with a Chinese accent.

Actually, I'd really love to do something in Bali, up in the mountains. A little restaurant with that scenery would be beautiful.

For friends, I love to make bruschetta. I grill country bread with Frantoia olive oil and make toppings, like crab, roasted squash, mushrooms, whatever's seasonal.

I grew up near Strasbourg in Alsace, where my family were coal merchants.

I arrived in New York in 1986, when I was 28. The market here was nothing. In the Union Square farmers' market, it was a couple of potatoes, everything from California. So the only place I was comfortable shopping was in Chinatown, because it all came from Hong Kong.

I love creating new things. It's difficult to be creative once a restaurant's open. People want the same dishes. For me, the creativity is in opening a new place and starting a new menu.

A steak is a steak, so I tried to experiment with different side dishes, such as truffle croquettes, and unusual condiments, but I learned that people don't want you to change the steakhouse.

I spent seven years in France. Then, I went to Asia for five years. I came to London in 1984 and then America in 1985. In 1991, I opened my first restaurant in New York City.

The Hamptons remind me of my childhood vacations. I love the beach, restaurants, and produce found on the East End.

My grandmother taught me how to make the basic pate brise pastry crust when I was young. The one thing I learned simply by eating her endless variations on delicious tarts for dinner every night is that this dough can be used for just about anything - sweet or savory.