James Beard quotes:

Food is our common ground, a universal experience.

Like the theater, offering food and hospitality to people is a matter of showmanship, and no matter how simple the performance, unless you do it well, with love and originality, you have a flop on your hands.

A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart who looks at her watch.

I don't like gourmet cooking or 'this' cooking or 'that' cooking. I like good cooking.

I have had, in my time, memorable meals of scrambled eggs with fresh truffles, scrambled eggs with caviar and other glamorous things, but to me, there are few things as magnificent as scrambled eggs, pure and simple, perfectly cooked and perfectly seasoned.

The only thing that will make a souffle fall is if it knows you're afraid of it.

Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.

Too few people understand a really good sandwich.

Goodness, how much there is to learn about food!

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.

If I had to narrow my choice of meats down to one for the rest of my life, I am quite certain that meat would be pork.

I believe that if ever I had to practice cannibalism, I might manage if there were enough tarragon around.

Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods; and good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts.

The kitchen, reasonably enough, was the scene of my first gastronomic adventure. I was on all fours. I crawled into the vegetable bin, settled on a giant onion and ate it, skin and all. It must have marked me for life, for I have never ceased to love the hearty flavor of raw onions.

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.

The secret of good cooking is, first, having a love of it"¦ If you're convinced that cooking is drudgery, you're never going to be good at it, and you might as well warm up something frozen.

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 am so happy to see more and more people in this country are becoming addicted to cheese.

I am still convinced that a good, simple, homemade cookie is preferable to all the store-bought cookies one can find.

When you cook, you never stop learning. That's the fascination of it all.

Good bread and good butter go together. They are one of the perfect marriages in gastronomy, and they never fail to cheer me.

I believe that if ever I had to practice cannibalism, I might manage if there were enough tarragon around

The secret of good cooking is, first, having a love of it.

I'm really enamored of the potato in all its guises.

The roe of the Russian sturgeon has probably been present at more important international affairs than have all the Russian dignitaries of history combined. This seemingly simple article of diet has taken its place in the world along with pearls, sables, old silver, and Cellini cups.

If you have never tasted a braised vegetable, you'll find it is a revelation.

Good cheese needs good companions.

Be simple. Be honest. Don't overcook and don't undercook, but it's better to undercook than overcook.

No vegetable exists which is not better slightly undercooked.

It is true thrift to use the best ingredients available and to waste nothing.

In a house without a genuine kitchen, one of the delights of growing up is lost.

It's foolish to go through life bemoaning the fact that you can't have this or that. Twaddle! You can omit certain foods and still enjoy eating.

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.

What comforted me? That is easy. It was a strong cold chicken jelly so very, very thick. My mother's Chinese cook would fix it. He would cook it down, condense it-this broth with all sorts of feet in it, then it would gell into sheer bliss. It kept me alive once for three weeks when I was ill as a child. And I've always craved it since.

Too many simple green salads suffer from a lack of imagination.

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.