Korean food is primarily based on herbs and shoots and sprouts. There's no pasture land in Korea; we eat like Hobbits.
Lentil dhal is the only thing I can cook.
I'm away so much I've had to learn to cook, and I find it relaxing after filming. I make stews and liver and bacon, and an Italian mate taught me how to make a mean puttanesca sauce.
I'm a big fan of soups and stews because you can throw everything in a slow cooker and leave it there for hours. They taste great in containers, too, because they sit in the fridge, and the flavors meld overnight.
My signature dish is a khoresht fesenjan. It's a stew with pomegranate and walnuts.
I need savory sauces, stews and pastas. I can't live without pastas. My butt, you can tell I like to eat.
I make a lot of soups, and I love stews. My mother's a big foodie. She went to culinary school in New Orleans and has an oyster-artichoke soup recipe that has no cream in it but it tastes so creamy.
I'm Irish, so I'm used to odd stews. I can take it. Just throw a lot of carrots and onions in there and I'll call it dinner.
Of course I love cooking Eastern European food because I'm a Jew, but I also love making roast chicken. I love making Hungarian goulash. There are a lot of egg noodles in my cooking.
I do cook a lot for myself. I tend to cook from scratch, a lot of stews and things, lots of beans, because beans have got lots of protein in them but not fat. I am partial to a bit of cheese - I try to limit myself in my cheese intake, but I do enjoy a good smelly cheese. Stinking Bishop is a good one.
I love slow cooker recipes - especially during the fall.
Thanks to my Czech-German heritage, I can't get enough of savory foods like stews, sausage, noodles, and anything that involves melted cheese. Not great choices from a dietary perspective, but at the end of a long day, I feel like I'm entitled.
I like to cook, and I tend to make those one-pot meat dishes of my Hungarian ancestors. Also, I make a great Bolognese.
I like Thai food, Jamaican stews with yam, pumpkin and sweet potato.
