Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
There's no point just telling the French that you can cook, the proof is in the pudding; if you bake them something delicious then you'll win them over.
Failing ownership of a wood-fired oven, whacking pizza dough straight on to the hot grill is the next best way to achieve that beautiful scorched crust.
I went to art college. I like to be creative. I use food as my medium at the moment but it could easily be illustrations in the future, or something else.
I adore flaky croissants and buttery millefeuilles. But sometimes I like to steer the other way, opting for light, airy cakes enriched with tart red fruits.
I'm less Soho House these days, more Airbnb. It's just so useful to have a washing machine, or to rock up somewhere with a baby bed and all the other kit provided.
I remember a trip to Malaysia to visit my dad's family when I was eight. It was Christmas and they roasted a whole suckling pig on the fire and it made me nauseous.
I've lived in so many different countries over the years. I spent most of my early life in the UK, five years in Germany and summers in Austria before moving to Paris.
Savoury cakes are very popular in France, they appear in boulangeries and with a side salad on lunch menus in chic cafes, but they're most likely to appear at a picnic.
I've always felt the easiest way to get to know new culture is through its food even if you don't speak the language. Food will do it for you. It's an universal language.
I had quite a few jobs in Paris before hitting the jackpot and writing cookbooks. One of them was peeling vegetables and prepping other veggie delights at Bob's Juice Bar.
Moving to France is not the hard part. Living here is more difficult. Of course there are many benefits but it's not always easy especially if you don't speak the language.
Whether it evokes pleasant memories of holidays in the Caribbean, or best-forgotten outings to Notting Hill, most of us have experienced jerk chicken in one form or another.
I am a big fan of spice. It's not only the intense heat of chilli flakes or a sprinkling of cayenne that gets my taste buds going, but also the deep warmth of cumin and ginger.
Mum and Dad grew vegetables and every day it would be beans for dinner and we'd have to go and pick them, and weed and stuff. If you wanted your pocket money you did your chores.
Whatever I do, whether it's cooking shows, books or events, the details count and that's what sets me apart from other food TV personalities. If you take out the details what's left?
I grew up surrounded by generously yielding plum trees, and as a family we were constantly on the hunt for inspired ways to use up the lovely plums before age got the better of them.
A whole trout is the ultimate Sunday table centrepiece to replace a hearty roast. It looks a little retro with the radish and cucumber scales, but this also adds freshness and acidity.
Even if some of us daren't admit it to ourselves, we are all a little conscious of Christmas weight gain. The trouble for foodies like myself is the best way to socialise is over a meal.
Every Frenchie has inherited their own way of making ratatouille, usually just as maman used to make. Well, my mum never made one, so I consider that my licence to make mine as I please.
The northern Japanese ramen is characterised by its miso base. In the south, the ramen may steer more towards a seafood-based broth, while in Tokyo, virtually every style of ramen exists.
Like its breakfast companion Marmite, jam seems to divide the crowds. In many of its mass-produced guises, it seems barely acquainted with the fruit named on the jar, tasting mostly of sugar.
I admit it, I do like pickled red onion. I made some the other day. You just slice up the onion, pull it apart and you get these petals and you make a pickling liquid, I make mine sweet and sour.
Fig season is a joyous time of year for me. Back in my Paris days, the markets would be filled with piles of these squidgy fruit, no doubt sent up from the sunny south where they grow in abundance.
Back in my school days, when I would scuttle off with a cheese roll, an apple, a box of Sun-Maid raisins and a Penguin bar, my packed lunches were reassuringly predictable. And I liked it that way.
On Friday, I tend to wrap up at about 5.30pm after a very hectic week at work. I love nothing better than heading straight to my local cinema, the Hackney Picture House, to catch a film with friends.
Since Londoners started taking their burgers as seriously as the Americans do, discerning burger lovers have come out of the woodwork to judge every component from buns to pickles, patties to cheeses.
I love to draw and paint. I did all the illustrations in my books, so I always have my watercolours with me. I was creative as a child and studied art at Central Saint Martins before getting into food.
As a woman you have to tick all these boxes to be able to be on TV. I know I look a certain way and that's partly why I'm on TV. If I were really ugly and fat, I don't think I'd have had the same chance.
Brittany might not boast the biggest collection of Michelin stars in France, but when it comes to produce, you quickly realise that some of the key building blocks of French cuisine have their roots here.
I inherited my 1960s copy of 'French Provincial Cooking' by Elizabeth David from my mother Gabrielle, who in turn inherited it from her mother Frances. It was my bible when I first moved to Paris aged 26.
Friday nights don't tend to be late as I like getting up early on Saturday. By 8am, you can find me in a yoga class. It's great to kick off the weekend with some exercise and it does set you up for the day.
I used to have a bit of a thing against starting a meal with soup. I'd find they were often too heavy, filling you up rather than igniting the appetite. Plus, I'd end up mopping it up with scoops of baguette.
True to his Malay Chinese heritage, my dad would regularly whip up a revitalising spicy broth in the depths of winter. He was a firm believer that spicy food is the solution to most problems, and feeling under the weather was no exception.
I want to be taken seriously: I can cook, I do have qualifications, OK, I do make mistakes, but I want to show that on camera. I'm not perfect. I'm someone who works hard, who is serious about what they're doing. It's substance over style.
To follow my meal, I'd drink a glass of my uncle's homemade apricot schnapps. He puts it in beautiful glass bottles and sells it at his local market in Austria. You don't normally drink with Asian food, so this would be a fitting end to the meal.
I realised filming in my own apartment that it was nice to come home and have some space. It worked for 'The Little Paris Kitchen' but now I've learned a lot about TV; you need space for the camera and you want to be mentally sound after filming.
I love cheese. It intensified when I moved to France. It felt like my cheese shop lady was my dealer because every week I'd say, 'I need this cheese, I need that cheese', and she'd cut me enough for the week but I'd finish a whole piece in one go.
The Little Paris Kitchen' was about my experience of living and cooking in Paris, 'My little French Kitchen' about my travels around France and 'Rachel Khoo's Kitchen Notebook' was a peek into my personal cooking diary with influences from around the world.
While they might have got a bit fancier over the years, I still relish a good packed lunch if I am on the road, with that mounting excitement for a particular goodie I've wrapped up for the trip and the challenge of holding out for as long as I can before I cave.
There are a lot of potatoes in Swedish food. They love their potatoes in all forms, they even put potato puree on their hotdogs. You can order a hot dog that has the frankfurter in it, then you have mustard or ketchup, then potato puree and deep fried crunchy onions.
But understanding the complexities of the ramen menu is an equally tricky feat for a foreigner. Both regional and stylistic variations apply to each menu. Add to that the spin that each particular ramen chef puts on his dish, and you rarely know what you are going to get.
The geographical location of Sweden and, therefore, short growing season meant that the range of produce is not as abundant like say France, Italy or Spain. This influenced the cooking culture and forced cooks to be creative with a handful of ingredients. It's a very modern way of cooking.
While studying art and design at Central Saint Martins, I went round supermarkets taking photos of shoppers and their baskets: the game was to match people with their food. For an architectural project, I made a scale model of a shop out of gingerbread rather than foam and added icing and sweets very colourfully.
A visit to the Rennes market, one of the finest I have seen in France, alone will convince you of the virtues of Breton gastronomy. It's a testament to the fact that Brittany is Frances' most agriculturally active region, with the producers themselves peddling their products, a vocal bunch, full of recipe ideas and passion.
With patisserie, unlike with cooking, you have to be very precise; you can't just add a bit of this and a bit of that, because your cake starts melting. There's a lot of technique involved, but you can still be creative. Because of my artistic background, when I have that freedom I tend to do things a little bit out of the box.