Great Cooking Favors The Prepared

I Was Born On The Eighteenth Of December, 1935, In The Town Bourg-en-bresse, About Thirty Miles Northeast Of Lyon, The Second Of Three Sons Of Jeanne And Jean-victor Pepin. Weighing Only Two And One Half Pounds, I Nearly Died At Birth.

I Have An Immigrant Story. Most People Come Here For Economic Reasons, Or Religious Reasons, Or Racial Reasons, Or Gender Reasons, Or One Of Those Things. I Had A Good Job In Paris, But America Was, And Still Is, The Golden Fleece. And I've Done Very Well!

When You Become A Good Cook, You Become A Good Craftsman, First. You Repeat And Repeat And Repeat Until Your Hands Know How To Move Without Thinking About It.

Children Never Lie...i Remember My Daughter Standing In Her Crib The First Time I Gave Her Caviar. I Put It On Bread. She Ate It And Said, "encore, Papa."

Thirty, 40 Years Ago, More Than That Now, Even, The Cook Was Certainly At The Bottom Of The Social Scale. And Any Mother Would've Wanted Their Child To Marry A Doctor, A Lawyer, An Architect, Not A Cook. Now, We Are Genius, It's Different.