My perfect morning is spent drinking coffee, eating porridge and reading the paper at a local cafe.
I consider myself an alumnus of Hard Rock Cafe.
I appreciate recipes that tell you what can be changed and what must remain fixed. 'The Zuni Cafe Cookbook' by the late Judy Rodgers is superb at this.
The European style of living is seductive: fewer hours worked, more hours at the cafe, less concern over self-betterment. But that style of living does not produce a purposeful life.
The most amazing thing is when you find yourself watching someone in the cafe or something doing something weird. It's amazing what people do, isn't it, when you just look at them, when you take the time to look.
I lost in the second round of the French Open and had 10 days off. I went to the Hard Rock Cafe. It was exciting to be away from my parents, to stay in a hotel. Hotels at 17 meant freedom.
The feathers have been retired to the London Hard Rock Cafe. I don't obsess about it as much. Also, it's strange - the better physical shape I get in, the less I care about what suit I'm covering myself up in. I'm not really out to flaunt it, but I'm just more comfortable in my own skin.
I love my latte from a cafe and my stovetop percolator. I'd have about three a day when I'm out of competition.
One of my problems with a lot of things I watch is that everybody's too pretty, and it takes me out of the film because I'm thinking that all these people look like I've seen them in a cafe in Los Angeles.
I worked in a coffee shop called Buzz Cafe in Oak Park. I started when I was 14 or 15, washing dishes, and then I became a barista and sometimes waited tables. It was an artsy scene.
