I often cook pasta in not enough water.
I wash mushrooms.
I don’t grind my own coffee beans.
I melt chocolate in a bowl set in, not over, simmering water.
I hate soup as a first course.
I buy store-brand butter for baking.
I try to use as few pots and pans when I cooking as I can.
I lift the lid when cooking rice to see how it’s doing.
I don’t like trying to pull off that stubborn and tough little dangling thing on the bottom of the meat on a chicken leg, either before or after it’s cooked.
I don’t know anything about tea.
If I had to choose between a fancy Michelin 3-star restaurant and a plate of perfectly fried chicken, I would choose the perfectly fried chicken.
I crave chocolate all the time. And I act on it.
Chocolate is the best thing in the world.
So is foie gras, Sevruga caviar, stale candy corn, Château Y’quem, dead-ripe figs, warm sour cherrie pie, hot corned beef on rye with mustard, Comté cheese, fleur de sel, Italian espresso, Korean barbequed pork ribs, any and all chocolates from Patrick Roger in Paris, French fries correctly salted, pretzel-croissants from City Bakery in New York, and those toasted-coconut-covered marshmallows with the queen on the bag.
I don’t understand people who don’t like chocolate.
I prefer chunky peanut butter.
I don’t like when I’m staying at someone’s house and they don’t have one decent saucepan or sharp knife.
I don’t like other people using my knifes.
I don’t understand being particular about having, or not having, nuts in your brownies (unless it’s an allergy). Is it really such a big deal?
I don’t like it when people make up food allergies in restaurants. If you don’t want something, just say you don’t want it.
My freezer is crammed with frozen cranberries, forgotten baguette halves, and chicken stock that I neglected to put the date on. And some chocolate chocolate-chip cookie dough and two different batches of espresso granita. One is better than the other.
I refuse to go to restaurants where the reservations person is an asshole on the phone.
Waiters should only be rude to customers if the customers are rude to them first.
I like when the newest, hottest, self-important restaurant closes within two years.
Anything with tentacles is gross.
I don’t like hand-washing silverware.
It’s hard to make money in the culinary business. Leave Emeril alone. Really.
If I have cookies or brownies around, I will eat them before breakfast.
I hate those cheap Turkish dried apricots. They have no taste. And I don’t know why anyone uses them when the California ones are so incredible.
I can’t remember the last time I spent more than 4 euros on a bottle of wine for myself.
I love the idea of organic, but I just can’t bring myself to spend $5 for a beet.
I just spent $18 dollars on a farm-raised chicken this week, which was delicious.
I hate when people don’t toast nuts.
I really don’t like to eat fish, especially when there’s lots of little annoying bones that you have to eat around and pick out of your mouth.
I like getting something extra for free when I go out to eat.
I hate when people grab at free samples of food.
I don’t like Evian water. It’s thick and viscous.
I like filling up on good bread in restaurants.
I refuse to eat standing up.
I like the process of getting drunk, but I don’t like being drunk.
I hate the tip system in restaurants.
I never cook beef at home. It never tastes as good as when you order it in a restaurant.
I prefer my own cooking to most of what I get in restaurants.
I crave bitter, wilted, sautéed greens with olive oil, salt, and perhaps some garlic.
I never count how many eggs I eat in a week.
I read food blogs while I eat.
I floss every night.
Ok those are some of mine…and yours?