While we Brits love a curry, the French get their spicy kicks from the culinary traditions bestowed by their North African population.

I haggle with French grannies over their old knick-knacks and walk away with some real gems.

I remember a trip to Malaysia to visit my dad's family when I was eight. It was Christmas and they roasted a whole suckling pig on the fire and it made me nauseous.

With patisserie, unlike with cooking, you have to be very precise; you can't just add a bit of this and a bit of that, because your cake starts melting. There's a lot of technique involved, but you can still be creative. Because of my artistic background, when I have that freedom I tend to do things a little bit out of the box.

The Great British summer has many qualities, but unfortunately guaranteed warm weather is not one of them.

Those Frenchies may know their pastry, but you can't beat a bit of British cheese.

I would try and barter a cake for some help with coding. I'm not the best coder. I have some basic HTML but that's about it.

Fig season is a joyous time of year for me. Back in my Paris days, the markets would be filled with piles of these squidgy fruit, no doubt sent up from the sunny south where they grow in abundance.

Ramen is Japanese soul food, appealing to old and young, rich and poor.

I will always look at my little Paris apartment with fond memories but I am too old to be sleeping on a futon bed!

Rubbing meat or vegetables with sweet and savoury spices before roasting or sizzling on a grill is what summer nights are all about.

There are a lot of potatoes in Swedish food. They love their potatoes in all forms, they even put potato puree on their hotdogs. You can order a hot dog that has the frankfurter in it, then you have mustard or ketchup, then potato puree and deep fried crunchy onions.

I think for me the final push to move to Paris was the fact I wanted an adventure and I was slightly bored of my life in London.

Mum and Dad grew vegetables and every day it would be beans for dinner and we'd have to go and pick them, and weed and stuff. If you wanted your pocket money you did your chores.

Education in Bavaria is tough. You fail sports, you have to repeat the year.

Many a Gallic treat is based on a hearty dose of butter.

A visit to the Rennes market, one of the finest I have seen in France, alone will convince you of the virtues of Breton gastronomy. It's a testament to the fact that Brittany is Frances' most agriculturally active region, with the producers themselves peddling their products, a vocal bunch, full of recipe ideas and passion.

Moving to France is not the hard part. Living here is more difficult. Of course there are many benefits but it's not always easy especially if you don't speak the language.

I'm less Soho House these days, more Airbnb. It's just so useful to have a washing machine, or to rock up somewhere with a baby bed and all the other kit provided.

Savoury cakes are very popular in France, they appear in boulangeries and with a side salad on lunch menus in chic cafes, but they're most likely to appear at a picnic.

To follow my meal, I'd drink a glass of my uncle's homemade apricot schnapps. He puts it in beautiful glass bottles and sells it at his local market in Austria. You don't normally drink with Asian food, so this would be a fitting end to the meal.

I used to have a bit of a thing against starting a meal with soup. I'd find they were often too heavy, filling you up rather than igniting the appetite. Plus, I'd end up mopping it up with scoops of baguette.

I think my heritage makes me very open to try things, taking on different flavours, mixing it all up. I find that exciting.

As a woman you have to tick all these boxes to be able to be on TV. I know I look a certain way and that's partly why I'm on TV. If I were really ugly and fat, I don't think I'd have had the same chance.

I'm always looking for a way to get some spice into my cooking but, generally, the French don't like spicy food.

It's great that Mary Berry got a primetime TV show, but I don't think there are enough women chefs on TV.

A whole trout is the ultimate Sunday table centrepiece to replace a hearty roast. It looks a little retro with the radish and cucumber scales, but this also adds freshness and acidity.

I love cheese. It intensified when I moved to France. It felt like my cheese shop lady was my dealer because every week I'd say, 'I need this cheese, I need that cheese', and she'd cut me enough for the week but I'd finish a whole piece in one go.

I'm not one for souvenirs though I do have a treasured yellow pot I bought at Maison d'Empereur in Marseille.

Pickled chillies are a must with wantan mee. I could eat a whole bowl of them - they're hot, salty, vinegary and sour all at the same time.

Sweden endured a potato famine like in Ireland and loads of people emigrated to the US.

I eat a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables not so much meat and fish. Baguettes and croissants are not an everyday food for me.

There's no point just telling the French that you can cook, the proof is in the pudding; if you bake them something delicious then you'll win them over.

Since Londoners started taking their burgers as seriously as the Americans do, discerning burger lovers have come out of the woodwork to judge every component from buns to pickles, patties to cheeses.

Whether it evokes pleasant memories of holidays in the Caribbean, or best-forgotten outings to Notting Hill, most of us have experienced jerk chicken in one form or another.

Whatever I do, whether it's cooking shows, books or events, the details count and that's what sets me apart from other food TV personalities. If you take out the details what's left?

Fika is a bit like afternoon tea but with coffee and pastries instead of sandwiches.

I don't like wasting food.

When one is the type of writer who cares about the meaning of the historically specific setting, the history itself is not something that I would call backdrop. It's not window dressing for a timeless relationship about love and betrayal. For me, the setting and the specific history are active co-agents with me in trying to form the novel.

Happiness is a mysterious concept. It seems to work best as futurity: at that point I will be happy, et cetera. I feel like I experience small pieces of joy day to day.

I don't think of myself as a gearhead or a motorcyclist. I'm not that young, and this is like another life of mine. But the people I know from that era think of me that way.

For me, art is not 'brooding.' It comes from someplace that is more fun and that has a kind of electricity to it.

Some writers think that fiction is the space of great neutrality where all humans share the same concerns, and we are all alike. I don't think so. I'm interested in class warfare because I think it's real.

Danzon is my favorite Cuban music, played by a traditional string orchestra with flute and piano. It's very formally structured but romantic music, which derives from the French-Haitian contradance.

I think that when the social stakes for people are higher, how you present yourself may sometimes feel like it's going to inform your destiny. Because if other people regard you in a certain way, they'll want to help you, and you will end up having a career.

I try to show ugliness, but with compassion for the people who commit ugly acts.

I don't write listening to music, and in a way it seems silly that any writer should have to explain why not, as it's possibly no different from saying you don't eat gourmet dinners or play tennis while you're at the keyboard.

These women were taking over these former manufacturing warehouses in SoHo and figuring out a way to be fashionable and viable without money. It's hard to imagine a life like that in Manhattan now - there's something romantic about it.

I had always wanted to include images in a novel, and with my first book, 'Telex From Cuba,' I made an elaborate website that is basically all images.

I don't read for plot, a story 'about' this or that. There must be some kind of philosophical depth rendered into the language, something happening.