Have I tried a black pudding? I'll eat anything - I'm not finicky - but that's not to say it takes any courage to eat black puddings because I find them delicious.
When I was a child in England before the war, Christmas pudding always contained at least one shiny new sixpence, and it was considered a sign of great good luck for the new year to find one in your helping of the pudding.
I've got such a sweet tooth. I do miss the U.K. where you get sticky toffee pudding or custard, all that.
I eat vegetarian a lot. I buy only fresh ingredients and cook from scratch - that way, when I feel like snacking and look in my fridge, it's: 'Oh, baby carrots or chocolate soy pudding. Take your pick.'
My three-course meal would be: smoked salmon with capers and a few prawns on there as well. Then it would be a dover sole grilled on the bone with a portion of green beans. And if I wasn't dieting or looking after myself, my favourite pudding would be bread and butter pudding with custard, ice cream and clotted cream all together!
They do not eat Yorkshire pudding on Sunday in Iowa.
Everyone has a favourite cake, pastry, pudding or pie from when they were kids.
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.
Food-wise, oh man, I tend to really indulge on vacation because a lot of my friends are incredible chefs. One friend makes an eggplant parmesan that is heavenly and melts in your mouth, and another makes a chocolate pudding that I can't resist.
When I was 5 years old, we had nothing in the village. One day, in front of my house, some soldiers in a big Cadillac started to do a picnic. I looked at them like they were coming from the moon. I remember they gave me a box of rice pudding - that, for me, was the American Dream.
