Top 70 Marco Pierre White Quotes

Like most fathers, I would do anything for my children, and I’ve worked very hard at trying to be a good father. I want to give them education, security, everything I never had.

My favourite dinner is a cup of tea and a ham sandwich with English mustard.

You cannot criticize a man for going to work. You really cannot.

When you roast a chicken perfectly, there’s nothing more delicious.

Whether dealing with children or chefs, they are all giant babies in need of nurturing.

I think what you got to do is to create an environment which people wish to sit in. You have to create a menu which is interesting to people. You have to create food which is delicious and affordable. I think that’s what’s important.

‘Wall Street’ was the big movie of 1987, the year in which Harveys opened. It was a film about greed and self-indulgence, about hunger for success, and Michael Douglas’s line, ‘breakfast is for wimps,’ became a mantra for anyone who wanted to get to the top.

I discovered that the world of the finest restaurants was something akin to the world of the Mafia.

Buy locally where possible, but if you can’t get the very best locally, don’t buy locally. Buy it from where it is best.

There’s something rather comforting about putting on an apron.

As far as I am concerned, ambition is the most dangerous occupation in the world. I have never been ambitious, or if I have, it’s only been by default.

I never met a man who worked harder than me.

I love gardens!

The day I stopped fearing my father was the day I could enjoy him.

When I look at old pictures, I see my son Luciano, not me. Luciano looks identical. That’s what’s extraordinary, the power of a gene pool.

Remember, restaurateurs are only shopkeepers; that’s all we are. It’s no different from the supermarket down the road.

I just can’t stand Tony Blair.

My tortured life – with its extremes and conflicts – might have been difficult for me to deal with, but the press couldn’t get enough of it. I was in the papers every day, ‘the enfant terrible of the culinary world.’

Oliver Reed was a great man who did things his own way. He used to come into Harveys, my restaurant in Wandsworth, and sit on the floor to have a drink before going to the table.

I like a nice cross section of society in my restaurants – the stars, the toffs, the working guy.

Generally, I respect critics; they have their job to do.

My pet hate, with customers, is those that think it’s all about wallets.

People are bored of these 12-course gastronomic menus. They want affordable glamour.

If I think back to the eighties, my methods weren’t conventional, but they got results.

Can you imagine, I lost my mother at age six? My childhood ended then.

I can’t work in a domestic kitchen; it’s just too confined. There’s no freedom, and there’s no buzz.

I wouldn’t want to be in one room, 20 hours a day, 52 weeks a year, with four white walls and a stove. I think it stunts your growth as a human being.

The French make the best wine.

Cuisine Nouvelle was just a concept, and one which, crucially, the English managed to get wrong. I mean, if you run a restaurant, you’ve got to feed people, not make pretty little pictures on plates to make up for your lack of ability.

I was brought up to respect my father and not to love him.

Food should be simple; it shouldn’t be complicated, even down to making Knorr gravy: a Knorr stock cube and water, bit of parsley at the end, little bit of olive oil. It’s about making the food deliciously tasty.

The food wasn’t very good in the first kitchen I ever worked in. But it was very busy, so I learnt to be fast, absorb pressure, use a knife, and say, ‘Yes, chef.’

My grandfather, father, and uncle were chefs, and my other uncle was a butcher.

People still think I led a rock and roll lifestyle. I was in my kitchen 100 hours a week; I didn’t have time to do that.

I love the countryside, which is where I live and feel most comfortable, and hate being surrounded by herds of people.

My twenties were the worst period of my life.

I was racially discriminated against for years as a child in Leeds because I was an Italian.

My children are, without question, the most wonderful thing. I’ve learnt more about myself through my children than any other experience in my life.

I take so much from my life. I have my shooting and my fishing. I have my working life. I have my relationship with my children.

I’m naturally an introvert.

One day, a chef moaned that he was too hot, so I took a carving knife in one hand, held his jacket with the other, and slashed it. Then I slashed his trousers. Both garments were still on his body at the time.

I like my mind being stimulated. I like discovering new concepts.

A lot of people say I look like a rock star or a designer punk. But I swear it’s the job that has carved my face. It’s the hours, the stress, and the pressure. It’s not me trying to look like this.

Self-control is true power.

Oh, I love ladies in hats! One rule of restaurants: never take a hat from a lady; wait for her to offer you the hat because she might not want to take it off – she might not have had time to do her hair properly.

I was brought up a working-class Tory. I believe, to be a true socialist, you have to be a capitalist first. In my heart, I’m a socialist; in my mind, I’m a capitalist.

I am not the sort of person who gives up.

In 1990 at Harveys, when I was 28 years old, I became the youngest chef to win two Michelin stars. It was a huge achievement.

I don’t like London. I’m not happy here. I don’t even own a flat here.

Females make better cooks than men. Females have a better palate. They have a better sense of smell. They never take shortcuts; this is why they’re very good in kitchens. The weakness in what they do is they are not as physically strong as men, so they’re never really given the opportunity.

I love the institution of marriage.

I’m a great fan of farmed products, as long as it’s done properly, because it allows people to be able to afford them. If it wasn’t for farmed products, a lot of people wouldn’t eat so well.

I think it’s really important for every young person to work in a kitchen because you learn a life skill.

I think Singapore is one of the great cities of the world.

I came from the most humble side of society, and I know what it’s like to be poor, really poor, and I was brought up in the ’60s and ’70s very poor, and I’m very happy flying the flag for the working man.

I don’t believe I’ve ever truly been in love because I don’t believe that I’ve known myself well enough in the past to allow someone to love me.

I came from a hard, working-class world which, since my mother’s death, had been dominated by men. I hadn’t been encouraged to talk about the burden of grief, and because I was severely underdeveloped when it came to sharing my emotions, I mustn’t have been the most communicative husband.

Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was a lad. From then on, he lived in fear that death was just around the corner, and he set about programming me to work hard and bring in some cash.

I’m the Christopher Biggins of reality TV.

Perhaps I created the monster Ramsay, who ended up as a TV personality screaming at celebrities on ‘Hell’s Kitchen,’ doing to them what I had done to him.

You’ll never see me at award ceremonies.

The newspapers had described me as the Jagger of the Aga. It wasn’t hard living up to the reputation.

I think, in life, the more you force things, they break. You just let things happen.

I don’t need Michelin, and they don’t need me.

Nine out of 10 English chefs have their names on their chests. Who do they think they are? They’re dreamers. They’re jokes.

Harveys opened against the backdrop of Thatcher’s greed culture.

When you work for someone, you never realise how much you are learning. It is only when you leave and you reflect back on life.

If I did one thing, I made cooking rock n’ roll: I made it sexy. I made young kids from rich backgrounds want to come into my world.

My cooking attracted celebrities. I met Sylvester Stallone. He squeezed my bicep and said: ‘I don’t usually eat your kind of food, but for you, I ate it.’ I haven’t got a clue what he’d eaten but he asked me to cook for his wedding feast when he married Jennifer Flavin at Blenheim Palace.

Once you accept and understand yourself, you do things for the right reasons, not the wrong ones, rather than being fuelled by your insecurities.