Chef Ramsay Quotes

To walk into an office and have your ‘good morning’ returned with a grunt and no eye contact is not my idea of a happy house. There is always time to acknowledge that Someone is more important than Something, even if it takes a couple of precious minutes.

I recall when we opened in New York how the designer locks were impossible to slide shut, often leading to a difficult encounter no matter which side of the door you were on.

But I love women chefs: they are intelligent, they are fast learners, and they can be tough. As for the effect the have on the boys, its entirely positive. Put a woman in a kitchen and discipline will improve, if anything: the guys have being told off in front of the girls. It's a playground thing - they just find it embarrassing.

you need to know what you’re aiming for in order to reach it.

Put on a fireman’s uniform and walk past the fire because it’s your lunch break, and you are dead. Grab a bucket and start throwing water over the blaze and you are seen to be God’s little helper.

Loo doors without a decent, large hook are as infuriating as a lock that doesn’t offer you full protection.

I know for an absolute fact that if I ate a meal at one of Gordon Ramsay's restaurants, I would be able to taste his anger.

Gordon Ramsay left one of his first jobs as an aspiring chef because he was tired of "the rages, the bullying and violence" perpetrated by the head chef.

Torture Cuisine by Stewart Stafford Kitchen death growls, Whipping that cream, Beating those eggs, Burning all the toast. Knifing diced cheese, Drawn, quartered ham, Straining tomato sauce, Crushed-down walnuts. Peeling potatoes naked, Then smashing them up, You say purée, I say mash, Turkey and chicken skewers. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Now I was lucky, in a way, because my money didn’t come overnight. It started with a gradual easing of housekeeping restraints so that Tana could shop without working out the sums beforehand. She could impulse-buy and fill the kitchen shelves with things that were fun to buy, even if they never saw the light of day again. Norwegian wooden toothpicks, plastic swords for the olives, pink loo paper with the imprint of raspberries

For months beforehand, I fielded calls from British media. A couple of the reporters asked me to name some British chefs who had inspired me. I mentioned the Roux brothers, Albert and Michel, and I named Marco Pierre White, not as much for his food as for how—by virtue of becoming an apron-wearing rock-star bad boy—he had broken the mold of whom a chef could be, which was something I could relate to. I got to London to find the Lanesborough dining room packed each night, a general excitement shared by everyone involved, and incredibly posh digs from which I could step out each morning into Hyde Park and take a good long run around Buckingham Palace. On my second day, I was cooking when a phone call came into the kitchen. The executive chef answered and, with a puzzled look, handed me the receiver. Trouble at Aquavit, I figured. I put the phone up to my ear, expecting to hear Håkan’s familiar “Hej, Marcus.” Instead, there was screaming. “How the fuck can you come to my fucking city and think you are going to be able to cook without even fucking referring to me?” This went on for what seemed like five minutes; I was too stunned to hang up. “I’m going to make sure you have a fucking miserable time here. This is my city, you hear? Good luck, you fucking black bastard.” And then he hung up. I had cooked with Gordon Ramsay once, a couple of years earlier, when we did a promotion with Charlie Trotter in Chicago. There were a handful of chefs there, including Daniel Boulud and Ferran Adrià, and Gordon was rude and obnoxious to all of them. As a group we were interviewed by the Chicago newspaper; Gordon interrupted everyone who tried to answer a question, craving the limelight. I was almost embarrassed for him. So when I was giving interviews in the lead-up to the Lanesborough event, and was asked who inspired me, I thought the best way to handle it was to say nothing about him at all. Nothing good, nothing bad. I guess he was offended at being left out. To be honest, though, only one phrase in his juvenile tirade unsettled me: when he called me a black bastard. Actually, I didn’t give a fuck about the bastard part. But the black part pissed me off.

It’s more an affliction than the expression of any high-minded ideals. I watch Mark Bittman enjoy a perfectly and authentically prepared Spanish paella on TV, after which he demonstrates how his viewers can do it at home—in an aluminum saucepot—and I want to shove my head through the glass of my TV screen and take a giant bite out of his skull, scoop the soft, slurry-like material inside into my paw, and then throw it right back into his smug, fireplug face. The notion that anyone would believe Catherine Zeta-Jones as an obsessively perfectionist chef (particularly given the ridiculously clumsy, 1980s-looking food) in the wretched film No Reservations made me want to vomit blood, hunt down the producers, and kick them slowly to death. (Worse was the fact that the damn thing was a remake of the unusually excellent German chef flick Mostly Martha.) On Hell’s Kitchen, when Gordon Ramsay pretends that the criminally inept, desperately unhealthy gland case in front of him could ever stand a chance in hell of surviving even three minutes as “executive chef of the new Gordon Ramsay restaurant” (the putative grand prize for the finalist), I’m inexplicably actually angry on Gordon’s behalf. And he’s the one making a quarter-million dollars an episode—very contentedly, too, from all reports. The eye-searing “Kwanzaa Cake” clip on YouTube, of Sandra Lee doing things with store-bought angel food cake, canned frosting, and corn nuts, instead of being simply the unintentionally hilarious viral video it should be, makes me mad for all humanity. I. Just. Can’t. Help it. I wish, really, that I was so far up my own ass that I could somehow believe myself to be some kind of standard-bearer for good eating—or ombudsman, or even the deliverer of thoughtful critique. But that wouldn’t be true, would it? I’m just a cranky old fuck with what, I guess, could charitably be called “issues.” And I’m still angry. But eat the fucking fish on Monday already. Okay? I wrote those immortal words about not going for the Monday fish, the ones that’ll haunt me long after I’m crumbs in a can, knowing nothing other than New York City. And times, to be fair, have changed. Okay, I still would advise against the fish special at T.G.I. McSweenigan’s, “A Place for Beer,” on a Monday. Fresh fish, I’d guess, is probably not the main thrust of their business. But things are different now for chefs and cooks. The odds are better than ever that the guy slinging fish and chips back there in the kitchen actually gives a shit about what he’s doing. And even if he doesn’t, these days he has to figure that you might actually know the difference. Back when I wrote the book that changed my life, I was angriest—like a lot of chefs and cooks of my middling abilities—at my customers. They’ve changed. I’ve changed. About them, I’m not angry anymore.

In my heart, I believe that I am a passionate and intuitive cook who could make a five-course meal without even looking at a recipe. I feel I have the flash and charismatic personality of a famous chef, the fiery tenacity of Gordon Ramsay, and the soulful sexuality of Tom Colicchio. The problem is that I lack all basic skill. For instance, my dad had to come over to show me how to turn my oven on. It is sad when your hopes and your abilities do not line up. I

ZANAHORIAS GLASEADAS EN NARANJA INGREDIENTES: 250grs de zanahorias cortadas en bastones. 250ml de jugo de naranja industrial. 3 cucharadas de azúcar. ½ taza de agua. Jugo de un limón. Cascara de limón. 1 diente de ajo. 1 cebolla cortada en brunoise. 1 cucharada de margarina. 3 cucharadas de aceite. Sal y pimienta a gusto. Aromáticas: clavo de olor, canela, guayabita. PREPARACIÓN: 1) Rehogar en una sartén, cebolla en el aceite y un diente de ajo. Incorporar las zanahorias, el jugo de naranja, el agua, el azúcar, cascara de naranja, las especies dulces y la sal y pimienta a gusto. 2) Dejar en cocción hasta que la zanahoria llegue al punto dente. 3) Retirar las zanahorias del almíbar, reservar y seguir reduciendo el almíbar. 4) Cuando el almíbar reduzca agregar la margarina e incorporar las zanahorias reservadas para glasearlas.

ESPINACAS CON PASAS Y PIÑONES: INGREDIENTES: 4 manojo espinaca. 100 gr. Piñón. 100 gr. pasas de Corinto. Aceite de oliva. Sal y pimienta. PREPARACIÓN: 1) Remojar las pasas durante una hora con agua o brandy. 2) En un poco de aceite dorar los piñones y las pasas, añadir las espinacas limpias, saltear unos minutos y salar.

Las guarniciones son un hecho, una necesidad, un complemento ideal para conseguir que una receta pase a ser de una simple combinación de productos a una obra de arte.

He’s polite and professional to everyone he meets, but behind their backs will tear them apart like he’s Chef Gordon Ramsay and everyone is just an idiot sandwich.

He’s polite and professional to everyone he meets, but behind their backs will tear them apart like he’s Chef Gordon Ramsay and everyone is just an idiot sandwich.

PAPAS CARAMELIZADAS AL GRATÍN CON MOZARELA INGREDIENTES: 500grs de papas cortadas en Vichy gross. 500grs de cebollas cortadas en pluma. 200grs de queso mozarela. 250gr de tocineta en bastones. 1 taza de leche. ½ taza de crema de leche. Sal y pimienta. Perejil picado. PREPARACIÓN: 1) Colocar en la sartén la tocineta a que dore, luego incorporamos las cebollas, cuando todo se caramelice agregamos las papas rehogamos, salpimentamos y tapamos la preparación para que también se caramelicen. 2) Cuando hayan tomado un punto dente agregamos la leche la crema de leche y dejamos reducir. 3) Por último agregamos mozarela y el perejil, llevamos a gratinar por unos minutos. 4) Presentar esta guarnición como acompañante de un proteico 5) Proteico a acompañar: Milanesas de Carnes

ÑOQUIS DE PAPA Estas bolitas de papa tan ligeras como el aire son un plato básico de la cocina italiana. La papa o patatas proporcionan la combinación perfecta de almidón y humedad. INGREDIENTES: 1 kg de papa. 2 huevos. 1 cucharadita de sal. 3 tazas de harina de trigo más la necesaria para espolvorear. PROCEDIMIENTO: 1) Colocar las papas a cocinar o llevarla al horno con su piel. 2) tritura las papas cuando las papas estén bien frías pasarla por un pasapuré o rallarla. 3) Añade la mezcla los huevos casca los huevos y añada sal y bate con un tenedor hasta que se mezcle vierte los huevos batidos, de manera uniforme sobre las papas completamente frías. Luego, espolvorea una taza de harina de modo homogéneo. Con un rascador, mezcla levanta y dale vuelta a las papas para mezclarlas bien con los huevos y la harina hasta que se forme una masa grumosa y desigual. 4) Incorpora la harina espolvorea un cuarto de taza de harina restante sobre la superficie de trabajo. Reparte la mezcla de las papas encima y espolvorea con otro cuarto de taza de harina. Con un rascador y luego con las manos, mezcla, levanta y dale vueltas a la mezcla, presionando ligeramente mientras trabajas, hasta que la harina se haya incorporado totalmente a la masa. 5) Dale forma a la masa forma una bola con la masa y tápala con un bol invertido. Espolvorea dos bandejas de horno grandes con la harina con el rascador rasca la superficie de trabajo hasta que quede limpia y luego espolvorearla de nuevo la harina. 6) Divide la mano en ocho trozos con el rascador, corta la masa en ocho trozo iguales. Deja siete bajo el bol y colca uno sobre la superficie de trabajo forma un cilindro corto. 7) Forma un cilindro con la masa con los dedos de ambas manos sobre el cilindro muévelo hacia adelante y hacia atrás sobre la superficie de trabajo, deslizando las manos gradualmente hacia los extremos para formar lentamente un cilindro estrecho de unos doce milímetros de diámetro. 8) Corta el cilindro en trozos corta el rulo en trozos de 2 cm con forma de almohada, coloca los trozos sin que se toquen, sobre las bandejas de horno preparadas. Enrolla y corta el resto de la masa del mismo modo, cubre las bandejas con papel de aluminio y guárdalas en nevera como mínimo una hora y como máximo toda la noche. 9) Para cocer los ñoquis, échalos por tandas en una olla con agua salada hirviendo y déjalos cocer unos tres minutos. Hasta que floten. Escúrrelos y cúbrelos con tu salsa favorita pesto, tomate o mezcle con mantequilla y queso parmesano.

PASTA 4 QUESOS INGREDIENTES: 200 gramos de queso azul o roquefort. 200 gramos de queso emmental. 200 gramos de queso mozzarella. 200 gramos de queso parmesano. 2 taza de salsa madre bechamel. 1 taza de crema de leche. 1 taza de vino blanco. 3 cda de maicena. PROCEDIMIENTO: 1) Se coloca el vino en una cacerola con el queso azul, hasta que se disuelva loco se coloca el queso emmental, se espera que se funda para lo aplicar el queso mozzarella, la salsa madre y la crema de leche se coloca de ultimo queso parmesano y se rectifica de sal y pimienta. NOTA: las cucharadas de maicena son para colocársela a los queso cundo se ralla para que no pierdan su grasa.

MASA PIZZA BÁSICA: INGREDIENTES: 1 Kg. de harina todo uso. 2 cucharadas de levadura. 2 cucharadas de azúcar. 1 Cucharadita de jugo de limón. 1 cucharadita de aceite. 1 Cucharada de sal. Agua necesaria. PREPARACIÓN: 1) Colocar en un bol el kilo de harina. 2) Incorporar la levadura removiéndola un poco con la harina. 3) Añadir el azúcar, la pizca de sal. 4) Incorporar el jugo de limón e ir vertiendo agua y amasar. 5) Cuando todos los elementos estén unidos voltear la masa en un mesón enharinado y amasar hasta conseguir una masa homogénea y suave. 6) Estirar y colocar en bandejas alargadas o individuales según sea el gusto. OBSERVACIÓN:Si a la masa de la Pizza se le coloca levadura no lleva huevo, si se le coloca huevo no se le coloca levadura LAS PIZZAS TIENEN DOS ELEMENTOS BÁSICOS PARA SU COMPOSICIÓN: Salsa Napolitana como base sobre la masa. Queso Mozarella

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