A Quote by Alex Guarnaschelli
I think we love bacon because it has all the qualities of an amazing sensory experience. When we cook it, the sizzling sound is so appetizing, the aroma is maddening, the crunch of the texture is so gratifying and the taste delivers every time.
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I can smell bacon sizzling or chicken roasting and appreciate the aroma, but I don't want to eat it.
In fact, quite a lot of what I do has to do with sound texture, and, you can't notate that. You can't notate the sound of "St. Elmo's Fire." There's no way of writing that down. That's because musical notation arose at a time when sound textures were limited. If you said violins and woodwind that defined the sound texture; if I say synthesizer and guitar it means nothing - you're talking about 28,000 variables.
When you hear bacon cooking....that sizzling sound isn't the fat cooking....that's applause.
When I was first approached for 'Pass the Plate,' I was thrilled because I love to cook. And I love to cook healthy. The reason I started cooking was because I would go to restaurants and have just amazing food but feel so heavy and gross. I would go home and try to cook the same thing, but a healthy version.
Nourishment is not just “nutrition.” Nourishment is the nutrients in the food, the taste, the aroma, the ambiance of the room, the conversation at the table, the love and inspiration in the cooking, and the joy of the entire eating experience.
The first time I heard rock'n'roll on a big sound system would have been at a fairground at the seaside. That's a hell of a sensory experience right there.
Self-awareness is your awareness of the world, which you experience through the five senses (sound, touch, sight, taste, and smell). Pay attention to your sensory impressions and be aware of those five ways that the world comes to you.
If you taste something, you're not at the maximum of your ability. What I think about in competition is temperature and texture. It has nothing to do with taste or emotion.
In Texas, we cook bacon a little differently than most folks...MACHINE-GUN BACON.
A dog will stay stupid. That's why we love them so much. The entire time we know them, they're idiots. Think of your dog. Every time you come home, he thinks it's amazing. He has no idea how you accomplish this every day. You walk in the door; the joy of this experience overwhelms him. He looks at you, He's back. It's that guy, that same guy. He can't believe it. Everything is amazing to your dog. Another can of food? I don't believe it.
Anything salty and crunch is a world of perfection to me. Put chips in front of me, and I will eat to the bottom of the bag. Because I have the tendency to do this, I found these amazing Eden Brown Rice Chips. They're the perfect amount of salt and crunch, and there's nothing in them.
The artist brain is the sensory brain: sight and sound, smell and taste, touch. These are the elements of magic, and magic is the elemental stuff of art. In filling the well, think magic. Think delight. Think fun. Do not think duty. Do not do what you should do-spiritual sit-ups like reading a dull but recommended critical text. Do what intrigues you, explore what interests you; think mystery, not mastery.
Someone asked how I feel about Captain Crunch. I'm capable of eating an entire box of it without any milk. It is a sweet taste that is indescribable. Captain Crunch is its own flavour.
Think of the sound you make when you let go after holding your breath for a very, very long time. Think of the gladdest sound you know: the sound of dawn on the first day of spring break, the sound of a bottle of Coke opening, the sound of a crowd cheering in your ears because you're coming down to the last part of a race--and you're ahead. Think of the sound of water over stones in a cold stream, and the sound of wind through green trees on a late May afternoon in Central Park. Think of the sound of a bus coming into the station carrying someone you love. Then put all those together.
I always had a penchant for falling in love. Every time I found myself without a mate, I fell into a state of low-sizzling panic.
Polly Jean, I love you. I love the texture of your skin, the taste of your saliva, the softness of your ears. I love every inch and every part of your entire body. From your toes and the beautifully curved arches of your feet, to the exceptional shade and warmth of your dark hair. I need you in my life, I hope you need me too.
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