We're all so busy we don't make time to enjoy our lives, good company and good food.
John Torode
Cooking steak is a joy because it is a terrific piece of meat that has great flavour whether it is grilled or pan-fried.
My earliest memory of cooking is my grandmother showing me how to make chicken gravy on the big combustion stove in her kitchen. I still use Nana's gravy recipe.
On Christmas morning breakfast is always thick slices of ham, thick white toast, butter and pepper - oh and a glass of fizz!
My affinity for beef extends into my home life, so you'll notice canvas prints of cows, a cowhide rug and prints of Smithfield meat market.
Yes, I am a judge on 'MasterChef,' where I taste thousands of dishes, and yes I am a trained chef which has had me commanding some of the biggest brigands a kitchen has ever seen. Yes, I have travelled the world and cooked on television and at food shows up and down the country, but in my heart I am a home cook.
I think restaurants and family homes and stuff are about conversation and about chatting. Food is there because you want to enjoy it and have fun with it but I'm not there to study it - I'm there to spend time with my friends.
I'm a culture person when I'm working, so my downtime is beach time: sand, surf and a barbecue.
In our family a whole ham on the bone would be bought three days before Christmas, and then stored in a pillow case and left in the fridge so anyone can take the huge thing out and slice it.
The most used thing I have is my wok. I prefer it to a pan or pot. It is my wonder. They're really easy to clean, I am a lazy cook like that, so it appeals.
As I'd travelled, I'd seen more and more people drinking rose. Given the amount of grapes we grow in Australia, I just said, 'Why wouldn't we be making rose?'
I never use organic vegetables. Why would you want to? The idea of taking a courgette grown in a third-world country in an organic field, packed into a polystyrene box, flown across the oceans, washed in chlorinated water, packed into a foam box, driven halfway across the country, wrapped in plastic and stamped 'organic,' what's the point?
Street stalls, be they in Korea, Thailand or anywhere else in Asia, in a covered market or simply on a street corner with a few brightly coloured plastic stools and tables, are my favourite places in the world to eat.
The culinary world is a fascinating place that has been influenced over the centuries by culture, religion, fashion, war, art, science and, more recently, globalisation.
I have no qualms with people who want to be vegetarians; it's just foolish. They are missing out on the best things in life: meat, cheese, proper Christmas pudding.
People sometimes forget that Sydney is a harbour and it's the ferries that make it unique.
Those who know me well will tell you that I love a market, and when I say market, I mean food market. No matter where in the world, they allow me to soak up the culture, to hear the rhythmic chattering of the local people and traders, and take in the all-important smells, pungent and intoxicating.
I have to admit to not being a great turkey fan unless they come from Paul Kelly at Kelly Turkeys.
My father did lots of things. He had an orange-juice factory. He did real estate. He did commercial selling. He was always up and about doing all sorts of weird and wonderful things and being adventurous. I always admired his self-discipline. He was very good at getting everything done. He was very tidy.
My nanna was an extraordinary lady, and a good old-fashioned cook. She'd just be pottering around, cooking dinner for 25 people on a wood-fired stove without a problem.
Sydney has the world's best swimming pool. Walk through the Botanical Gardens and you come to the Andrew 'Boy' Charlton Pool on Mrs Macquaries Road, with incredible views of Finger Wharf and the Harbour.
It seems that the more we travel, the more we want flavour and variation in our food - and the bolder it is, the more addictive those flavours will be.
I love the island of Majorca. I love the beach at Cala Ratjada, which is on the far side of the island where not many Britons go.
Fish and chips by nature are greasy, so we put vinegar on it and we like it because it helps our digestive system. The vinegar breaks down the fat.
Pumpkin and nutmeg tarts are a small, sweet version of the classic tart, a combination that is a particular favourite of mine.
I got quite into Spam once, in Korea. On their Thanksgiving, they give boxes of it to their friends. I fry it in batter with herbs wrapped around.
I want people to throw on a hat, head out into the outback and see the real Australia. You can do it how you want - independently in a 4WD, camping under the stars, or being treated like a king in a luxury homestead or on a cruise.
Australia is an extraordinary country full of people who eat extraordinary food. There are Greeks, Italians, Vietnamese, Koreans, Chinese, Brits. It's so varied.
Raft Point is among the greatest examples of ancient indigenous art we know of.
My grandmother would let me stand on a stool stirring gravy in a large roasting dish in front of a wood-fired stove at the age of six. She wasn't worried about the whole health and safety stuff.
I like all my jackets to be on wooden coat hangers, all facing the same direction.
The food I had as a child was not complicated, but by heck it was tasty. My Nanna's cauliflower cheese was awesome, her caramel slice wonderful and I am still searching for a recipe to make her apple tea cake.
The most important ingredient of Sunday lunch is the conversation. Without that, it's dead and gone.
Sunday morning is time to slob around and perhaps go swimming.
I'm definitely not a nerd, not a nerd at all.
I think a robot butler would be a great idea for certain things. But the idea of anybody coming into my bedroom and doing stuff for me, besides my wife and I - such as giving you tea in the morning - I just find a bit irksome.
People think the restaurant industry is hard and takes no prisoners, but so does baking, so does retail and so does bus driving. You can't blame your job.
It's hard to get your head around the scale of Australia.
Restaurant kitchens are highly pressurised environments, with lots of young men, and that means one thing: testosterone. It's not brutal - it's military. It is regimented, tough. People are put into compartments and have to do exactly what they're told or the whole thing falls apart.
I like to reactivate my body after a long journey by getting the sun in my eyes.
What I'm trying to do as an Australian is to say to people, 'You've got to go back out to Australia,' because there are rural communities that really rely upon tourism to continue to go.
Cutting out meat or fish I could maybe just about manage - living without either? I can't see myself doing that ever, ever, ever.
Let's be honest, we all love a roast, but Sunday lunch could be a huge plate of salade nicoise; it could be eggs benedict; it could be a barbecue. The important thing is you're making an effort, and you're all together.
Markets have long been at the centre of communities, not just somewhere to drop in and grab a bag of groceries, but a hub, a meeting place, and always a place to stop and eat.
You can't blame another person for your world being different - or things like divorce. It gets right on my goat when people don't take responsibility.
MasterChef's' about real people and for real people. It's aspirational and inspirational. There's nothing snobbish about it.
I cooked, which was pretty un-Australian. And I didn't really like Australian music... I preferred the New Romantics and punk and stuff like that.
I'm an Australian - I grew up in Melbourne and Sydney - but as a kid you don't learn much about the Kimberley.
Cooking is a great leveller. You can be a sports star, an actor, an entrepreneur, anything, but cooking strips it all away.
My worst flight was with the Indonesian carrier Garuda from Australia to Bali, which was just awful.
