Quotes from Chris Morocco

I love bread and would happily eat it for every meal of the day.

A pastry crust is arguably the least healthy (and most time-consuming) part of a quiche. Replacing pastry with richly browned chunks of sweet potato creates a similar buttery contrast and a satisfying bite.

Many spicy condiments blend into fiery sameness, and even the ones that don't hold back on heat often offer little flavor aside from burn. Yet occasionally, a condiment comes along that's like a black hole, compressing physics-defying amounts of flavor in a tiny package. Such is the case with Auria's Kitchen sambal sauces.

The injustice I feel when my kids drag me out of bed by 6 most mornings is tempered and possibly even erased by the happiness I feel when eating a thick piece of whole-grain toast with a shamelessly large cup of coffee.

I spend a lot of time apologizing for the things I say when I am hungry. That's why breakfast, for me, is non-negotiable. It's an insurance policy against saying things I'll regret before my blood-sugar levels have stabilized.

Snapper is pretty forgiving for a white fish. The skin crisps up beautifully, which holds it together.

Vancouver is a coffee-lover's paradise, capable of impressing even the most hyper-caffeinated and jaded New Yorkers, such as myself. The coffee is fantastic, whether I happened to be craving a world-class espresso served with monastic intensity or a single-origin pour-over at a vibrant all-day cafe.

A sharp knife is the best tool you can have in the kitchen.

When I cook Thanksgiving in the Bon Appetit Test Kitchen, every tool I need is within arm's reach, groceries are delivered, and colleagues know better than to talk to me when I have that look on my face.

I would never try to make ketchup from scratch. Or Dijon mustard, for that matter. These condiments, and plenty of others, are hard to improve upon and even harder to reproduce in a home kitchen.

When it comes to store-bought sauces, it takes a lot to impress me.

Boneless skinless chicken breasts don't give a damn about their bad reputation. They don't care that you think of them as pale, dry, and rubbery.

You never forget your first tofu scramble. I was in college, and it was my first meal at the student-run co-op where I would be eating for the year. It was steamy kale and mashed tofu dripping with Bragg's Liquid Aminos, served directly from the bathtub-size wok it was cooked in. It was soggy, salty, and vaguely nutritive.

My first foray into meatless burgers was BA's Best Veggie Burger, a no-holds-barred, maximalist veggie burger in the style of Superiority Burger. A year later I followed that up with a black-bean tofu burger designed to stand up to the high heat of the grill. So what was there left to say? Plenty.

Invest in decent cookware. One $80 skillet is better than a $100 13-piece set that has nine things you don't need.

Molokhia as a dish can take many forms, but usually involves a braised meat.

Arriving home on a weeknight is guaranteed to be the least relaxing part of my day. The door opens, and two Tasmanian devil-children fly at me, showing me art projects and asking for snacks. My bag has barely hit the floor before I'm off doing 20 things at once, none of which is preparing dinner.

Everyone has foods that take them on mental journeys.

While a lot of milk chocolate just so happens to be poor quality, milk chocolate itself is not the problem.

In some circles there's a conception that milk chocolate is the Merlot of the chocolate world.

The zeitgeist tells us that we 'should' prefer dark chocolate much the same as we should prefer wine, coffee, and whiskey with flavor profiles that run toward the extreme. But sometimes I just want to eat something accessible and enjoyable without embarking on a cerebral tasting exercise.

In July and August, when everyone I know is at the beach, I am cooking through turkey, potato, and pie recipes for Bon Appetit's November issue.

My freezer is a labelled-and-dated marvel of soups, stews, braises, cooked grains, bread, and the occasional half-eaten dessert. Any of them can be defrosted and ready to eat in under 25 minutes.

My favorite Hodo Soy product is the firm tofu, a dense cryovac-ed block that isn't packed in water like most store-bought tofu and, therefore, doesn't need to be pressed before using (what a revelation!). It's nutty and mild with a firm - never spongy - consistency.