Quotes About Culinary

I love getting cookbooks - people will give them to me, and I read them like novels and file everything away.

Growing up, I thought salt belonged in a shaker at the table and nowhere else.

My mum wanted me to be a doctor because she worked in nursing. So she was quite disappointed when I came back from a holiday in France, and said I wanted to be a chef.

I've met with a lot of nutritionists and have a good idea of nutrition and what I should eat and when to eat it. I would at some point like to get a chef.

To be around me, you must love food, or I'm the most obnoxious person you've ever met.

I obsess over places I will never live and restaurants at which I aspire to eat.

I'm obsessed with cooking! I want a degree in the culinary arts!

I can't live in a world where there are only, like, four kinds of women. Or where every woman is obsessed with cake. The very least I ask is that we have one female character in the world who likes savory things! I don't have any role models who like cheese!

I'm kind of obsessed with food. I like to eat.

I'm kind of obsessed with food - I really am.

I'm really obsessed with 'Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares.' I really don't know why.

I have a well-documented obsession with spoons.

I have an obsession with hot sauce. I love Cholula. I put Cholula on everything.

I have to admit to the occasional need for 'Come Dine with Me.' I am the most atrocious cook, and that's probably why I find it so entertaining. It looks exotic to me.

On TV he had seen how the Chinese cooked their rice, and it wasn't with chickpeas and chicken as Rayiha did; they boiled it for a very long time.

Terence's idea of roughing it consisted of pork pie, veal pie, cold roast beef, a ham, pickles, pickled eggs, pickled beets, cheese, bread and butter, ginger beer and a bottle of port. It was possibly the best meal I had ever had in my life.

Joanna had the fisherman's pie. 'What's under the mashed potato?' Slider asked. Joanna chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then looked down. 'Something white,' she said at last. 'With little bits of something pink.' She chewed again. 'I am eating, aren't I?' she appealed for reassurance. 'It's so hard to tell without some sensory input, like taste or texture.

What exactly is a french before it's fried?

Mr. Nord, bald and boring, sold equipment to hospitals and was gone a lot on overnight trips. Mrs. Nord wore eye shadow and headbands that matched her shell tops and Bermudas. For lunch she made us foods she'd seen in the pages of her women's magazines: baked hot dogs coated in crushed Special K; English muffin pizzas; Telstar coolers (lemonade and club soda afloat with a toothpick-speared maraschino cherry—a sort of edible satellite that jabbed your lip as you drank).

When people ask me how to find happiness in life I tell them, First learn how to cook.

One must know combinations, one must have a true knowledge of food to be in the moment.

A great meal can be deftly managed or thuggishly muscled, either way resulting in an original offering of scrumptiousness.

An entire meal made of pumpkin, from something resembling chicken (strips of rind from near the skin, boiled in chicken stock and then broiled) and something else resembling mashed potatoes, and things that looked like carrots and cucumbers and even peas, with pumpkin tea and pumpkin ice cream for dessert. Pumpkin ravioli, and soup, and sausage. Pumpkin pancakes, waffles. Pumpkin french toast, made with pumpkin bread.

Mustard's no good without roast beef.