I love my kitchen. For Manhattan, I have a rather decent-size kitchen, and it has an opening that gives out to the dining room, which has a window with a view of the city and in the distance the Statue of Liberty.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
My kitchen was built for my body. It forms a 'U' in the middle of the living room and dining room. It's not huge, because I don't like huge kitchens.
My mother's kitchen was built to be the focal point of our house. I got into the kitchen often as a child.
In my flat in Chicago, I've got this big room with an office in the corner and a balcony so I can watch people go by.
New York apartments are notoriously small, and my cute little studio is no exception - space is at a premium, which is one of the reasons that I only have a mini-fridge. Great for leftovers, cheese, and chilling Diet Coke.
In New York, we're always confined with spaces. Our restaurants are difficult to navigate as cooks and to operate. We fight against the buildings we run in New York.
One of the things I love about New York is that it's one of the only places where you could have an entire restaurant dedicated to macaroni and cheese.
The kitchen is the heart of every home, for the most part. It evokes memories of your family history.
My kitchen in New York City is in the Richard Meier building on Perry Street, so it's ultra-modern: white, glass and transparent. It's 180 square feet, with an induction stove. Everything's hidden, so you don't see the microwave or the fridge.
I love the intensity of the fine-dining kitchen, but loathe the fine-dining experience.
I wanted to get us a place of our own with a little bit more space. The kitchen is just huge, because my mom... lives there, man, and she loves being in the kitchen.