Too Few People Understand A

I've Long Said That If I Were About To Be Executed And Were Given A Choice Of My Last Meal, It Would Be Bacon And Eggs. There Are Few Sights That Appeal To Me More Than The Streaks Of Lean And Fat In A Good Side Of Bacon, Or The Lovely Round Of Pinkish Meat Framed In Delicate White Fat That Is Canadian Bacon. Nothing Is Quite As Intoxicating As The Smell Of Bacon Frying In The Morning, Save Perhaps The Smell Of Coffee Brewing.

There Is Absolutely No Substitute For The Best. Good Food Cannot Be Made Of Inferior Ingredients Masked With High Flavor. It Is True Thrift To Use The Best Ingredients Available And To Waste Nothing.

I Believe That If Ever I Had To Practice Cannibalism, I Might Manage If There Were Enough Tarragon Around.

Hands Are Our Earliest Tools. Cooking Starts With The Hands Which Are So Sensitive That When They Touch Something They Transmit Messages To Your Brain About Texture And Temperature.

Grilling, Broiling, Barbecuing - Whatever You Want To Call It - Is An Art, Not Just A Matter Of Building A Pyre And Throwing On A Piece Of Meat As A Sacrifice To The Gods Of The Stomach.