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America has been conditioned to think of pasta as the never-ending pasta bowl and Olive Garden.

I was at lunch with some friends one day, and we looked down at our table - blond pasta, blond pizza - and then someone joked, 'Blonde salad,' and it stuck.

I think the paparazzi might have chased me out of Los Angeles.

When I'm traveling, I won't miss an opportunity to try great pasta.

I was in New York and I went to a meatball shop with my friend and there was paparazzi there and I thought, 'How did you know that someone was gonna come to this meatball shop?' But I was pregnant and I wanted a meatball sub and let me tell you, it was delicious.

Once I was walking from The Mercer in New York - because otherwise I don't walk anywhere - and this woman paparazzo who was following me fell over a fire hydrant and her whole tooth went through her lip. I leant over her, saying, 'Are you all right?' and she was still taking pictures.

My mother and sisters cooked Italian food, and I never heard of half of the dishes you see in these Italian restaurants. I just go in and order spaghetti.

You know those days when you think you have to have a plate of pasta right now? When I'm trying to be good, I take a minute to ask myself, 'Do you really need to eat all this crazy stuff? It will still be around if you want it later.'

It's a strange environment, being hounded. The paparazzi are cretins.

I'm a huge pasta and pizza lover. I can eat those every single day.