The Three Questions with Andy Richter - Samin Nosrat

Episode Date: September 23, 2025

Chef, host, and food writer Samin Nosrat (Salt Fat Acid Heat) joins Andy Richter to discuss her transition from chef and cookbook author to Netflix personality, what she learned at the legendary restaurant Chez Panisse, being "born into sadness," growing up with Persian cuisine, and much more. Plus, Samin reads an excerpt from her teenage diary.Do you want to talk to Andy live on SiriusXM’s Conan O’Brien Radio? Tell us your favorite dinner party story (about anything!) - leave a voicemail at 855-266-2604 or fill out our Google Form at BIT.LY/CALLANDYRICHTER. Listen to "The Andy Richter Call-In Show" every Wednesday at 1pm Pacific on SiriusXM's Conan O'Brien Channel. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hey, everybody. Welcome back to the three questions. I'm your host, Andy Richter. And today I'm talking to Samin Nasrat. Samin is a chef, TV host, food writer, and podcaster. She's the author of the New York Times number one bestseller, salt, fat, acid heat, mastering the elements of good cooking, which was also a really fantastic Netflix show. Her second cookbook, Good Things, is available for pre-order now. She'll be embarking on a book tour in September to promote the book. Dates and locations can, be found on her website, chow-sameen.com slash appearances. And that's chow like the Italian. Chow. After a three-year hiatus, her podcast, Home Cooking, will release an eight-episode season later this year. She launched a substack earlier this year called A Grain of Salt that includes recipes and unrecipes, video tutorials, and field trips. Here's my wonderful conversation with Samin Nasrat. She was like, truly, you should speak, and I'm like, I will get cut. But I did go, I went, on the way home last night, I went 80, which felt very transgressive. Wow.

Yeah. It probably goes like 130 or something. Right, right, right. I'm like, no, I'm not doing that. I'm just like a, it's not like I'm a total rule follower. I just know that the second I'll break a rule, I'll get car. Like, that has been my experience, my whole life. Yeah, yeah.

Like, yeah, the minute I, the minute I do the bad thing. But were you, I mean, were your parents strict? Like, did they still? Yeah, like a. Yes, and also as like a girl, I got extra. My brothers had a lot more leeway than I did. Right, right. Yeah.

And do you think also, too, it's because there was this sort of like escaping an oppressive regime that sort of made them? I mean, we could talk about this if you are. We are. We are. We already are. Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah, okay. Yeah, I think from my mom, I think a lot of it had to do with a general distrust. Both my parents, well, my dad has passed away, but were our conspirate, like, hardcore conspiracy theorists. But I cut them some slack because, like, they survived an actual, like, CIA conspiracy in their country. Right, right. And so there was a lot of that sort of just general distrust of everything. Yeah. And then to like complicate that my, I had an older sister who died when I was very young. And she had sort of, she was born with a terminal brain cancer that like pretty much no child sort of at that time could survive.

Wow. And how long did she live? She was three when she died. Oh, that's so. Oh, my God. I can't even imagine. Like in the best of circumstances, in a traumaless life would be such a like horrible thing to befall anyone and a whole family. And so I think that added a lot.

In retrospect, I think that that is a big part of what made my mom much more like overprotective and overbearing and sort of coming from a place of fear in her the way she navigated the world and raising us. So, and I just was like, my whole life, I was like, it's just like, I just want to do right.

You know, like I just want to please you. And also like once I got therapistsized, I realized, oh, I think a big part of it was I really internalized this idea that if I did a good enough job and was good enough, like, I could be two kids worth, I could make my, I could be two kids worth of everything for my parents. Oh, wow. Like, I think that was, that pressure was sort of probably, you still felt the loss of your sister. Yeah, and even if I didn't have, like, a deeply person, I was one and a half when she died,

so I don't have a ton of, like, memory or relationship with her, but I think still, there's a grief of what happened to our family and, like, what happened to my mom and how that affected her. in raising us. And so now I understand sort of the psychology of it in a way that I definitely wasn't aware of as a kid. I just was like, be good, be good, be good. And so, like, truly every time I make a mistake, I just am like, still, I just have this punch in the heart, like punch in the gut. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Especially if it's, and also my dad was really cheap and like very sort of frugal is a much nicer way to say it, especially now that he's past. But very like money, like, Like, the cost of everything was, like, the first concern.

And so, like, you know, when I was a teenager, like, driving, like, my beater, Volvo, like, whatever, car from, I get in a fender bender. And, like, the first thought is not, like, am I okay? Are they okay? It's like, how much is it going to cost? Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I still have a lot of that. No, I sort of at least have enough awareness to be like, it's okay. Like, we're all going to be okay.

Yeah. It's just a thing. Yeah. It's just a thing. do you think well I mean first of all it is I mean of course you were raised in like you were born into sadness so so much sadness and you were born into worry and I'm sure that you were born into like a hospital existence too you know probably back and forth so you were just absorbing all that yeah totally and I and there's just yeah I have no memory of it and then no one ever talked about it afterward and so I think all that's sort of in my cells and I just didn't understand until really truly I mean there have been moments of realization but a big part was during the pandemic I read this draft of my friend's memoir who she wrote a lot about her own loss and her dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer when

she was four and he managed to extend his life until he was 18 until she was 18 but still the like you know dealing with all of that loss for the rest of her. life and processing the grief sort of very belatedly. And I felt so connected to the book. And it wasn't for weeks afterward. I was like, wow, why do I feel so like, this story feels so relatable

to me? Like, I feel this, but I don't have anything to grieve. And then finally I was like, oh, wait a minute, I had a sister who died. And that was this whole in our family life and that sort of set me on this journey for a couple of years because my family, and in our culture, in Iranian culture, so much is about

presenting a good appearance to outside world and in our family especially there's not really a lot of like processing stuff or talking about stuff and a lot of things have actually been actively withheld from me I just don't know a lot of circumstances of what brought my family specifically to San Diego or when even when my parents exactly came yeah and um they still like you're yeah nobody taught like it's real hard and so do you ask or is it just kind of verboten to even ask it's a little bit verboten and I at this point I I have a really kind of strained relationship with my mom and my dad has passed away. And then my sort of more extended family, just people really are aversive.

Like, they're evasive, I should say. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Aversive. I don't even know if that's a word, but it's pretty good. It's pretty good, yeah. And so it's just, but I did like kind of set out almost on a journalistic inquiry of if I can't get the answers from these people in my life and there's not a way for me to go to Iran and trace things. I was like, well, let me just read every, I became best friends with Google Scholar.

And like, I don't know, there's like a whole thing where you can just look up studies on Google. And so I'm like finding all the studies of like what happens to a family system when a child dies. What happens to a younger sibling when an older sibling dies and sort of trying to understand the psychology of like how that may have affected our family. And a lot of it made things make so much more sense, you know, which is just so helpful. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Do you think it was food, was Persian food in your house? Oh, yeah.

Was that like a, do you think that was like a place to go for comfort in a strange land? And first of all, was there a big Persian diaspora in San Diego? Not quite as big as here in L.A. Yeah. But definitely there's sort of spillover. And that was one of the questions I always wondered was, how did we end up in San Diego, not L.A.? Yeah. And it wasn't until much more recently when my dad was dying that sort of a little crumb of information made its way onto my plate.

And I found out that I think my dad's family was a relationship, was a religion called Baha'i. And in Iran, the Baha'is were persecuted. And so as the revolution was approaching a lot of Baha'i's sense that danger. And so they left and they went all over the world. and from what I understand like a good amount of it sounds like they got on a ship or some,

it sounds like there was a ship with some stuff and a bunch of Baha'is came specifically to San Diego maybe because it was a port city and sort of at least landed there and my grandparents were in that sort of first wave

I think in the early 70s and then they sort of sent for my dad and then eventually my dad and then my mom followed my dad sort of reluctantly as far as I understand she did. I don't want to leave you on. Yeah, it is weird how sometimes, because I was, did you ever eat at the New Orleans

restaurant, Uglitziches? It was like, it was like a, almost like a diner, but it's where the chefs would go eat. Oh, cool. And it ended up closing, but it was a family business. And I think, I think the dad was like, the, you know, the patriarch was a Croatian or something like some Balkan thing. But he tried to get off. in New York, and they put him back on the boat for some reason.

Yeah, and kept going. And he actually jumped off the ship in New Orleans. And that's how he ended up in New Orleans. Yeah, I mean, the stories of how people and entire communities end up places is so fascinating. And, like, one of the ones I love is, you know, here in California, we have all the all the donut shops. Yes. And so many of them are run by, like, Laotian families and, oh, my God. Cambodian. It's all Cambodian. Yeah, yeah. Right. From one guy. From one, yeah, the, did you read that amazing? Yeah, and there's a documentary about it.

Yeah, yeah. And so, yeah, and all the Cambodian families. And so they all come and, like, one guy has sort of made his way into the donut business. And so then, like, they all work for him and then figure it out. Yeah, he went to Winchell's University or whatever and learned donuts, you know. Like, that kind of stuff I truly love. Yeah. Like, just finding, tracing the little history of how that happens, you know?

And, like, the thing here in L.A. too, is that you go to, you go out of a parking garage and give somebody your ticket, and they are visibly Ethiopian. And it's or Eritrean, you know, from that, and it's like, what happened? Like, who came here and was like parking garages, you know? Or Korean dry cleaners, you know, or Greek coffee shops. You know, it's, it really is, it's kind of fantastic and wonderful. And, you know, and that's what's so great about the Cambodian donut shop is that it's documented. Like, it's like, we know. And then it can be traced back to one guy who, and also, too, in like such a perfect American story, blew it all on dambling. Totally.

You know, like, and then had to remake, you know, had to remake his empire again, you know. So, Iranians, what do we have? Persian rug stores. Persian rug stores, sure. There are a lot of florists, at least in the Bay Area, like a lot of the florists are Persian, which I've noticed. Yeah, yeah. Tile stores here, too. Oh, interesting.

There's a lot of tile flooring companies. Yeah. And then, of course, you, like, talk to the person. They're like, well, at home, I was an engine. of electrical engineering or whatever. Right, right, right. Yeah. Yeah. It's so strong.

Why do you think that they don't want to tell them, like, why Sand Eagle? Like, why is that such a challenging question? I think it's just any, there's so much pain is what I've discovered. And it's like a house of cards that if they pick out one thing, the whole thing will crumble. And like, to me, yeah, I mean, I, there were just, there, growing up in my house, I think I, I understood that my parents didn't really particularly like each other but I don't know that I understood the breadth of it and the depth of it

and it wasn't really until I had much perspective like not when I just went to college but many years later that I could like go to therapy and understand oh this isn't how other people like treat each other in their families and I did sort of wonder for a long time like why my mom stayed because my dad was just so abusive

and they clearly hated each other And I think she was afraid And I think he really made her afraid to leave Like I think he He sort of fed off of the power of keeping her I remember she tried to go to community college And learn upholstery She tried to go to school and get a job

And a catering company Like he always just sort of wouldn't allow it And so he kind of yeah Got off on keeping her down And eventually she got Found the bravery to leave him But that was maybe 10 years about 10 years ago, 2015, 2016.

Oh, wow. And so they had already been living sort of separately for a long time and barely communicating, but I don't think he ever thought it would happen. And so he retaliated in all sorts of insane, legal and illegal ways. Wow. And, but I think now understanding how intense and how just deep reaching their animosity toward each other was, I think there's so much pain. for my mom. I couldn't, my dad was like kind of a compulsive liar, probably a psychopath. I don't

really, like, I'm not a, I can't diagnose him, but he was not a great person, it was super safe person to be around and not very trustworthy. And so I couldn't have gone to him for any real information that I could have trusted. And my mom just, I think it's too painful for her to look at any of those things directly. And so there wasn't like a way for me to ask even the basic questions, which is so funny because I'm so nosy and so curious. Right. You know, like, it's almost like it got pushed down, repressed over there, and so it comes out over here.

Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Yeah, yeah. Can't you tell my loves to grow? And so I have had to try to figure things out in the weirdest ways. Like, here's just truly, just to give you a tiny glimpse of, like, truly how demented my dad was was he my my brothers and I were estranged from him for me more than them and from pretty much my entire adult life are they older your brothers they're younger their twins are four years younger than me and um my dad just like really wanted to be like viewed as the great father you know or something

even though yeah and i just at some point realized i needed to have like some safety and some space but that made him want it even more so he was always sort of chasing me in ways that felt sometimes unsafe and he had a traumatic brain injury that we still don't exactly know what happened in early 2022 and that ended him up into the hospital and he had an emergency

craniotomy and from that he ended up on a ventilator which my brothers and I were all very clear that like both of our parents sort of in the wake of our sister's experience in the hospital I think our whole lives our parents were like if anything ever happens to us just we don't want to be artificial like have our lives artificially extended

don't let us perish on a machine so when we got a call that he was on this ventilator we were like oh well he never wanted that like let's see what we can do about that because he had very little chance he had so much brain damage like a very little chance of ever waking up again right and i was like if he's never going to wake up again he can't hurt me so i can go and like advocate at this hospital to have him, like, have a compassionate sort of end of life. And when we got there, this kind of, like, soap opera sort of chapter by chapter revealed itself for the next six months. We learned that he had told the hospital the last time that he'd been there that his

horrible children had abandoned him and wanted to murder him for their inheritance, which was not true. And then we found out, like, within the first one or two days that he had, a secret wife in Israel that we didn't know about. In Israel, of all places. Yeah, who he had filed for divorce from 13 days earlier. But in California, there's a six-month cooling down period, so they were still technically married.

And then she heard that we were there and, you know, trying to advocate for this. And she called the hospital and threatened to sue them. Because she should be the one? Well, she said she basically were like, oh, these kids are trying to murder their dad. and so then that like you know if you threaten to sue a hospital every they're like hot potato hands off and so everything sort of got stuck in this like crazy limbo that like are are my life and my brother one of my brothers we really sort of became deeply involved in that and it sort of my life came to a screeching halt but every day there were these new revelations and we found

we found um my brother was a journalist for like 15 years in local news in san diego so he's a real like digger. He knows how to just like go to the court website, go to this. Right, right. And so somehow he like, my dad must have not had a password on his phone, which is wild for such a paranoid person. Yeah. We got in there and then we found this Google, this like YouTube account that my dad had set up. It was a private YouTube account with like 40 hour long videos of himself sitting in front of a camera with like a script that he'd written and prepared for himself of these screeds to for my brothers and I to find this channel after he'd passed away because this was the real truth of our lives and um wow and it was truly like and is it in english or in farce it's in english yeah yeah yeah and it's

truly like demented like you can kind of see a person like not in full reality kind of talk i mean who was the experience of my dad like his reality was not the rest of people's reality but the weird thing is is like he wasn't always lying and that was was kind of like destabilizing about it was sometimes because there were so many other secrets in our lives, what he was saying was actually true, but everybody else was denying it. So there's this way where, like, my brothers and I were at least, like, primed enough to be able to read

between some of the lines and, like, find some of this. And also, I can just imagine, like, being so starved for real information that you have to sit through all this other toxic bullshit. My brother watched it on 2.5 speed. Yeah, I would think. I would think, yeah, yeah. And I couldn't watch it. I just was like too, I was like, I don't have to send it out to a transcription service or something.

And then he just gave me the greatest hits. He's like, oh, you got to watch number 17 minute 45 or whatever, you know. Right, right. And so there were some crazy. Yeah. That's so megal man. It was so bananas. You know what I mean. Totally. So that was actually where I found out some things that sort of like, I was like, well, this is definitely like a deeply ill person who's not ever been therapist has no self-awareness. But some of these things you're saying about how things evolved in my early childhood. between you and my mom kind of makes sense like it helps me understand her you just have to take it really with a grain of salt like he also revealed that we this is like we have Jewish ancestry that we didn't know about

which like totally adds up in a way once I traced it I like talk I was like oh this actually totally makes sense which again a lot of Jewish people in Iran converted to Bahai to the Bahia religion so like so that sort of kind of there were ways where I was like

oh, I don't actually think you're just saying crazy stuff. I think this makes sense. Yeah, yeah. And, but my mom's side of the family's Muslim, so there's always been sort of a religious conflict inside of our family. Oh, wow. And have you ever done a DNA testing thing? No, I'm too paranoid.

I have a paranoid. I'm the paranoid. What are you afraid they're going to own your DNA profile? Yeah, yeah. I just, I mean, I'm... At this point, though, I'm like, they have everything. I know, I know. That's my whole thing about like, oh, the surveillance date.

how you guard yourself against i'm like fuck that i mean they're already up our asses yeah yeah yeah so yeah the only thing i've done recently is i i do i did like put the number thing on my phone instead of the facial recognition opening up so i have so that way if someone like punches you out and you knocked unconscious yeah or i don't know if i get if like you know once we get to the point where we're

throwing molotovs which is that you know not that far off yeah no i know it's like then if they find my phone at least they won't be able to get in there, and I don't know what they'll find, you know, like pictures of my dogs and recipes and things, you know. So, well, it does sound like, I mean, in your house, and I mean, because I, in reading and watching some stuff about you, it does seem that like cooking was a refuge. Yes. Oh, sorry.

You asked me that. Yeah, yeah. But I went past it, too. And I, and was it just your mom or did your dad cook too? My dad only ever, like, once in a while, would make kebabs, which is a real, like, I think A cross-cultural dad thing. Yeah, yeah. Fire and meat.

Yeah, exactly. But my mom really was, like, the heart of the home and the heart of the kitchen. And, like, I think in true, you know, I think now that I've spent so much time thinking about food and writing about it and meeting people from all different places, I think this is a universal immigrant thing. But she really, I think, was cooking for the, toward the taste of home. Yeah. And searching for that taste. And often, like, the highest compliment a food could get, even just an ingratious. ingredient, like, would be like, this orange tastes like Iran. You know, this lamb tastes like

Iran. Yeah, yeah. And as I then, like, went on to become a cook and learn about, like, organic food and the sustainable food movement and, you know, farm to table cooking, I was like, I would bring things home from farms when I would come to visit. And they'd be like, oh, this tastes like Iran. And I was like, oh, I get it. Iran just tastes like good, homegrown stuff. Like fresh. Yeah. Yeah, like fresh things. Yeah, totally. But, you know, she, I always joke like half of our childhood was spent in the back of the Volvo Station Wagon driving around Southern California looking for just the right ingredient. And so she had her whole stable of like, we'd go to the Middle Eastern market for all the kinds of feta cheese and we'd go to the, you know, Mexican market

for the citrus. And sometimes she would send my dad to Tijuana to get like, there's, there are these sweet lemons that it's not a really common ingredient here, but they grow them in Mexico and or sweet limes, I guess. And it's really common sort of special fruit in Iran and sour orange. sort of inverse fruits, right? And so she would be like, go get some sweet lemons and sour oranges. Yeah, because I know Persian food a little bit, mainly because... Well, you live here. Well, not even from here, from Chicago.

There was a restaurant called Reza's that was in Andersonville, which is kind of near the neighborhood I lived, and it was fantastic. And so I ended up kind of knowing stuff. And I was just kind of rea, because I don't, I remember the dishes, but I don't remember the names, except for Kashka bottom, John. Oh, so good. Yeah, yeah. That's one of my, I actually have made that.

You have? Yeah, yeah. But, like, there was one that was, like, made with, I think it was breakberries. Oh, barberries. Barberries. Like, what is it barberries? It's a little red, sour, like, super tart berry. Yeah, yeah.

And it's. And are they available here at all? Yeah, you can buy them at, like, any Middle Eastern store. Oh, okay. But definitely the, it's definitely a middle, I don't, I don't even think it's a general Middle Eastern thing. I think really barberries, I've only ever seen them in Persian cuisine. In Persian food.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, but Iranians love anything sour. Yeah. So, hence the sour berry on your rice. And I'm sure you know about Mastie Malones. Yes, yeah, totally. I grew up on Mastri-Mollon's ice cream. Do you guys know that?

The Persian ice cream store? Yeah. Yeah. And I just, I love to, it's such an American thing, too, that it was previously an ice cream store that was called Mugsy Malones. Totally. And they couldn't afford to change the sign other than they're like, Masti. That's more Persian.

And I think it still has a shamrock. Yeah. Yeah, well, also, I can't remember what it's called, but I think the Mashedi part is a, like an ode to, there's an Iranian, like, in Tehran, there's an ice cream place called, like, Masti something. So I think it's, it's, it's a first name. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And so it's, I think it's like an ode for the Iran.

It's like a little signal for the Iranians, like, we have this. But it's amazing. It's the best coffee ice cream I've ever had. Oh, that's awesome. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. I love that place. Well, is it, is it a common thing you think, do you?

Are there Persian moms that aren't good cooks? Or if they're here, they learn to become good cooks? I do think that for the most part, the Persian mom, certainly of my generation, who I knew, were most, even if they did have a career outside the home, they definitely would cook and pride themselves on cooking this food for their families. My mom really, I think it was a way for her to pour a lot. She, like I said, she came here sort of reluctantly, and she always has had this longing for this place that she left behind. And it was very important to her that my brothers and I really understood and embodied our Persian culture. And the food was really sort of the most prominent way that that was in our daily lives. Yeah.

And, you know, we only spoke Farsi at home. we went to Persian school on Saturdays very resentfully to learn how to read and write and we and that was all like deep whereas you hear so many stories of people coming here

and assimilate really easily and happily assimilating eagerly my mom resisted that for a long time she would say to us like you go to school out there that's America you come over this threshold into this home this is Iran

and so I really that really was yeah, a big part of my sort of childhood and what I understood our home to be. And so that meant we had Persian food. And yeah. I mean, sometimes we'd have tacos. But like, I mean, San Diego. Yeah, yeah, yeah. So they weren't, they weren't like restrictive in that way. No, no. I mean, we all, I would say we all loved to eat. My dad was probably the most adventurous eater of all. So like, but, and we, there is, there are so many different immigrant populations in San Diego. So there were, we did eat a lot of things. But, but Mexican food is just like,

I feel like if you cut me open, there's like a kebab and a burrito. Like, this is my heart. Absolutely. No, in Southern California, you know, it's, you just, it's a staple. You know, it's just like it's, you can't not eat Mexican food and why would you not want to? Totally. So, but you weren't like particularly food-centric. I liked eating it.

Yeah, yeah. But I didn't learn how to cook. And, you know, my mom wanted us. Did your mother encourage you? you to learn, or was that sort of her thing? She sort of discouraged it, not even because the kitchen was her realm, but more I think she was like, no, no, you need to go to school so you can do other stuff. I see.

But she also wanted us to have enough skills to, like, feed ourselves. So she taught us how to make tuna salad and scrambled eggs. Yeah, yeah. But definitely that was not, it was just not a part of my child. I was not like at her apron strings at all. And I kind of accidentally sort of stumbled it into cooking. It was not at all a goal or a plan. Did you be, I mean, since your dad was so restrictive on your mom educating herself,

was there a reluctance or was there, you know, is that okay for the kids to go to college? Yeah, that was from the, yeah. And my mom, just to be clear, she was college educated. Oh, okay. He just didn't want her to have any power. Here in America. Yeah, yeah. Freedom of any kind. I see.

And he, but I also, yeah, everyone from my grandfather down was very sort of like, you need to study, get straight A's, get a scholarship, go to college. We can't afford to send you, but you must go to the best college. Yeah. So that, I very much like internalized that pressure of being a good student. And that drove me for sure throughout my entire childhood. Yeah, yeah. So you go to school to be a writer, right? Yeah.

Yeah, real lucrative. And what was that meant with? Like when you say to mom and dad, I'm going to be a writer. They're like, aren't you sure you don't want to get even a poet? Yeah, PhD in engineering. Like, yeah, the amount of times my uncle took me for a drive and sort of confronted, you know, you're trapped in a car. And so, and was like, what are you doing here? Like, you need to get a master's degree in something, at least.

Like, in like, and, you know, and I always joke, like, for Iranians, it's like, you have three choices. doctor, lawyer, engineer. And I really shot myself in the foot because as a kid, I was always like, oh, I'm going to be a doctor, lawyer. Like, I was like, I'm going to be a doctor and a lawyer. Right, right. And by the time I was... People pleaser. Totally. By the time I was like 13, 14, I kind of started to realize I really loved reading and writing and book. I mean, I loved books my whole childhood, but I could maybe write. And I sort of left that behind. And that was disastrous for everyone. Yeah, yeah. Well, you have a brother that's a reporter. Yeah.

When what's your other, the other twin? My other brother is an engineer, actually. Is an engineer? Oh, okay. So one of them made people happy. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's true. And he has like multiple degrees.

I still just have the one. Yeah, yeah. Yeah. But it was, it took them a long time, you know. First, there was like the indignity of me wanting to be an English major and be a writer. Then, like, I decided, oh, I'm going to be a busser at this restaurant, right? Like, I'm going to go do manual labor, like, cleaning people's dirty plates, like, which is just unthinkable. And you're finishing college while you're doing this too.

Yeah, I was still in school. And then when I graduated and they're sort of like, well, now what are you going to do? What are you going to apply to? And at that point, I still thought maybe I would apply to get a master's degree in creative writing. But still, that was like, that only sort of like barely hit. That was like barely counts as a degree, you know, in their eyes. Right, exactly. And in the end, I realized I couldn't afford it.

You know, it would cost me like $80,000 to become a poet, like a sort of. poet. So I didn't do that and I just kept cooking, which they really didn't understand. They really did not. And to set the scene, I will give them, like, I give everybody in my life some, like a grace around that because this was like 2000. So there was not yet, you know, celebrity food culture as we know it. There was no Tony Bourdain. There was no, yeah, just like food chef anything. There's no cable TV. No, I mean, barely a food network existed. And so it wasn't glamorous or cool in any way. It was just this thing that sort of appealed to me a little bit.

And I, nothing else was, I didn't know what else to do. And I kind of had this voice in me. All of my friends in college, you know, had like real majors. You know, like they were going to go to law school or become a consultant, which I still don't know what that means. Right. Or like, or business degree or whatever. Or doctors. Yeah.

And I was just. just this, like, weird, floating English major. And so when there would be job fairs, the only jobs, like, for English majors were, like, marketing, which I still also barely understand what that is. And I just was like, and everyone at the job fairs in their, like, Anne Taylor Loft separates, you know? And I'm just like, I don't have any of those. Like, that just felt the idea of, like, buying those clothes and going to a job and sitting in a cuticle and doing something, I didn't know what it was. That, I always had a feeling like, that will kill my soul. Yeah, yeah. what small amount of soul I have.

And so, I also said cuticle, which I think is sort of poetic in itself. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, did I say cuticle? Yeah.

You said cuticle, which is like, yeah, you'd be a tiny thing on the edge of a fingernail. Yeah, totally. Can't you tell my loves a girl? This is also like there was barely Yahoo! Google. There weren't, now I think you can be an English major and go work. in any tech company, though, because they need people to write the stuff.

Yeah, yeah. Or you go to law school or, you know, yeah. And that just, none of that was there. And I sort of had stumbled into this restaurant. It was so beautiful. Yeah, tell, I mean, for people that don't know that story. Oh, yeah. Sheepenese in Berkeley, which is, you know, one of the-

American institution. Yeah, yeah. And I, you know, I knew nothing about restaurants or the food world when I moved to Berkeley for school, but, you know, on the day they, like, do the freshman orientation. I remember somebody was like, oh, Chez Panisse, like, that's where you have your parents take you when they come to town. Like, it's the nicest restaurant in town. That was sort of how I understood it. And I was like, maybe white people's parents. Like, my parents are not going to pay $80 for dinner. Like, like, uh, we're going for kabobah. Yeah. And so, um, so that sort of like went in one year and

out the other. And then eventually I ended up saving up with my boyfriend, my sophomore year. And we ate there. We saved $220 over the course of like eight months so we could eat a dinner there. Why? Just because it seemed like a fancy thing to do. You'd heard so much about it. And like we, a big way that he was from the Bay Area. And so a big way we spent our time was like going to the places of his childhood and the classics. And he had always wanted to go there. And I was like, okay. Oh, he never did. Oh, okay. And so we was a first for both of us. And like, and we, yeah, it was just a really that was, I had never been in a restaurant like that. I'd never been somewhere where like they they bring you special butter that looks like it's been churned

in a personal thing for you and like everything every thing you could possibly want is like taken care of before you even have to say it out loud and yeah it just felt so warm and wonderful and the food and not oppressive too i mean i imagine because that's because there are fancy restaurants that feel like you feel like you're being judged it didn't feel like that I mean, I definitely, I think we felt out of place being like the sort of, I was in a denim skirt and a black tank top. Like, we definitely were the youngest people there, but I think it was charming to them that we had come. And so that felt really inspiring to me and I wanted to, and we had friends who were students also and bus tables there. So I was like, oh, that's what I'll do.

Because I always worked through college. Yeah. And do you remember a particular dish in that meal that like? Oh, yeah. I mean, well, the one I always sort of think of is the dessert was a chocolate suflay. Oh, wow. And the server brought it and said, oh, have you ever had soufflis before? And I said, no.

And she said, would you like me to show you how to eat it? And I was like, sure. And she said, oh, you poke a hole in it with your spoon and you pour in this sauce. And that way every bite has sauce. And so it was like a raspberry sauce. So I did that. And I was like, wow, this is so good. And she said, oh, what do you think?

And I was like, well, it's really good. But you know what would make it even better is a glass of cold milk. You know? And she was like, you want milk? And I was like, come on, warm chocolate. cold milk. And she was like, okay. And so she went and got the milk and then she brought also like a glass of dessert wine to show us like the refined accompaniment. And it wasn't until years later when I lived in Italy that I learned like in fine dining, milk is considered for

babies. And like even having a latte is like something like only Americans would do because you maybe would have a latte before 10 a.m. but never after. And so it was just this funny interaction. And later when I came back with my resume to apply for a job, the woman who'd served the dessert was the floor manager. And so we remembered each other and she hired me right away, even though I had no experience. And I started busing tables like a week later. And it was just this really amazing sensory sort of temple. Like it was, it was just, it smelled good in there. It looked amazing. It felt just everything was thought of and cared for. And I'd never been in a place like that. And, you know, over a hundred people work there. And everyone, for me, my little

overachieving, like, immigrant child heart, like, I just was like, I found my people because everyone, like, was just so thorough and careful. And, like, there was a particular way to tie the trash bag before taking it down and putting it in the dumpster. And, like, everything had a system. And if you didn't do your part, then you would mess up the person after you. And so there was this way I, like, felt I was part of a living organ. And that was something I'd always longed for. And so it just so happened that I found it being a busser at a restaurant. And so in some ways, I'm like, who knows, I could have ended up somewhere else.

And that would have become the thing for me. At a vet clinic. Totally. But this was just this really, it was at a moment where I didn't know what else to do. And I just really loved being there. And also I loved the food. And the food was so good. And people there just were so passionate.

it. And that was so, like, inspiring to me. And I felt so lost. So I just was like, well, maybe I can do this. And so I begged to them. And there was a lot of resistance. And then eventually they let me in the kitchen. Was there, because, you know, there is kind of a cliche about the, the dictatorial chef and the, you know, ruling by fear, you know, atmosphere of a big fancy kitchen. And was there any of that there? I mean, if now we have the bear, which I do think in many ways, that show is the, like, this incredible and pretty accurate representation of a lot of like that kind of super high level

of dining and what happens. And in a lot of ways, Chez Panisse exists in, as like a counter response to that, like that tradition. And so, you know, it was started by hippies who didn't know how to cook. And whereas in all of the European restaurants, everybody calls each other chef. Here, you never called anyone's chef.

It was actually like, you were kind of a joke. if you called somebody a chef, even the chefs. And so you just called them by their first names, which for me felt like transgressive because I was never in my life at 19. Like I'd only ever referred to adults as teacher misses this, coach that, like, doctor this. And so all of a sudden I was like, had to call someone, you know, Russ. And it just felt wrong in my heart every time. But that part of it, not at all, was like it was not like an aggressive place.

But there was such a commitment to perfect. And I think in any environment like that, there is almost, it's like what might be, the kind of feelings that might run hot in another kitchen, sometimes run a little cold in a place like Chez Panisse where it's, it's kind of like everyone's like, why is she doing it that way? You know? It's almost like passive aggression versus like aggression aggression. And I definitely just, to me, I was always like, how can I do this right? I just want to fit in. I want to prove myself. So I was worried and anxious for sure, especially like until I, found, you know, you have to learn in your body how to move in a kitchen and how to be efficient and how to like anticipate someone's walking toward you with something wide so you get out of their way and all of that stuff. It was just a lot coming at me all at once. So it took me a while and I was definitely, and I still like I'm tripping all over myself. So yeah, but it was not at all the kind of thing you think about. I've heard you say something like that you, that you're not, you can't just be about cooking and you can't.

can't just be about writing, that you kind of have to be this hybrid. And at what point did you realize, like, was there a point to realize I'm not going to work in restaurants the rest of my life? You know, I may dip in and dabble, but I also have to use this English degree. I spent all this money on. Although it was a state school. It's not that bad. And also, when I think back to how cheap it was, I'm like, I can't believe how much it costs now. It was so much. I've told my children state schools are so great. Go to a state schools. States schools are great. And they're always like, nah. And I think even, like, when I was still busing and trying to learn how to cook,

I remember I would sit at the back table at Chez Panisse with, like, all my creative writing books for my classes, and like another stack of cookbooks that they had told me to study. And so it was always this thing of like, I'm going to do that and I'm going to do that. And I never wanted to let go of some sort of like writing or intellectual pursuit. That felt always very much a part of me. And I kind of just have like tried and failed so many different versions of that. And in the meantime, I needed to make my rent and pay for my food. And the skill that I had and kept developing was being a cook.

So I just kept cooking. But I never had the sort of idea, I'm going to have a restaurant empire. Or even one restaurant. Or I'm going to be Martha Stewart. Yeah, that was never the idea. It was always that I was trying to figure out like how to write and how to get into writing. whether or something intellectual. And first I was like, maybe I should get a PhD in English.

Maybe, you know, then I thought about the MFA, which like didn't work out. And then I was like, maybe I should go to journalism school. And all these things also were really expensive. And I didn't have any money to pay for these programs. Yeah. And so I kind of would like think about it or even sometimes apply and even sometimes apply and get in. And then sort of it would just fall to the wayside. And when I went to Italy as a young cook to sort of learn more about

food part of it was that I was working on an application for a Fulbright grant which again I barely knew what that was I still and I think I just had heard of it as something that like gives you some sort of credibility in some field you know like I didn't understand just an institution bestowing credibility upon you and so because I was there a project that has to come out the yeah you have to you I'm going to write something yeah you propose a project and it has to be in a field that is related to why you want to go to whatever country. I see. And so for me, I wanted to go to Italy.

And I just, truly, I, like, went down the, like, you know, majors. And I was like, which one seems like? I was like, anthropology. I didn't know what anthropology was. I still don't really know. But I was like, I checked anthropology. Yeah, yeah. And I came up, I was really interested at the time in, and I still am very interested in

the sort of disappearing foods and disappearing flavors. And Italy, when the EU was formed in the late 90s, there were all of these sort of attempts at standardizing food-making practices across all of the countries in the EU. And that threatened a lot of ancient foods and traditional foods. And a lot of countries were like, okay, that's fine.

But Italians are very committed to their history and their food. So there were a lot of protests. For example, at one point, making pizza in a wood-burning oven was outlawed. It was illegal in like 1997. And so all these Italians were protesting in like at the Spanish steps about it, you know? And eventually that those things were reversed. But they were so committed to these traditions because things like there's this cured meat called lardo de colonata. And it's been made the same way for over 3,000 years in this place called colonata, which is near Carrara, where the marble comes from. And the traditional,

and it's sort of at a small at some altitude and so there are these caves these marble these caves in which they make the lardo which is just like a cured pork fat basically and they salt it and put it in these marble boxes and because it's at altitude and because they're in these cold caves it stays and because marble is a natural interceptic and because there's salt on it all of these things are like anti they're preservatives and antibacterials like the nobody has died eating lardo de colanata for 3,000. and years. But when the laws came, they were like, oh, this is illegal, you need a stainless steel kitchen. But so much of the microbial, you know, what's there and the flavor and the

tradition is in the way that it's made. It wouldn't taste the same. It wouldn't be the same if it was just made down the road in a stainless steel kitchen. So Italians threw a fit. And they were like, no, we're not going to do it your way. And they did. They took back a lot of the sort of laws. But this was really interesting to me. And I loved sort of tracing like, what's, what's going to get lost. How are these people fighting for this? What are they fighting for? And I kind of wanted to make like an encyclopedia of the foods in a certain region of Italy that were that were being threatened. And that was the project I proposed. Or even extinct ones that were passed. Or even ones that had passed. Yeah. Like there was a bean. There's a bean called the Zulfino bean that had pretty

much gone, pretty much like entirely disappeared. And this one butcher, Dario Chikini, was responsible for bringing it back in Tuscany. And so things like that that were so. fascinating to me. And so, but yeah, and I had no idea how to apply for any of that stuff. And I just sort of like filled out all the forms. And then you had to speak Italian. So I took Italian, I would work in the mornings at Chey Pines from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. and then drive to San Francisco and take four hours of Italian class at a community college afterward. And I got like, yeah, and I got the Italian teacher to say I like spoke enough Italian to do it. And I turned in my application and I was a finalist, but I didn't get it, which crushed.

my heart. Because here I was, like, another thing I didn't get. And now what am I going to do? I guess I'll just have to be a cook forever. So there was a lot of that, like trying a whole and I just kept throwing stuff at the wall to see what would stick. And I guess I, looking back, I do have like an amazing sort of resourcefulness and resilience because it always was toward a book or toward a writing project in whatever way that that might come about. Yeah, one thing I'm curious, why Italy and not France? As a cook, I, well, I had been to Italy on my, I did my year abroad for school in London. And during that time, I had a brief time in Italy and a brief time in France.

And I just loved Italy. And I felt, I don't blame you. Oh, no, I felt a real kinship. It's just Chez Panisse is a French name, you know. I felt a real kinship. There's kind of like a hot bloodedness to Iranians. that I felt like a real kinship with the Italians, like that sort of hot-blooded, I don't know. We yell, we love food, whatever.

Where people having a conversation, it sounds like an argument. Yes, exactly, totally. That's for me. Coming from the Midwest, there's so many different cultures. Like, when I'd go to the Lower East Side, and I would hear, like, Orthodox, Jewish people talking to each other, I'd be like, why are they yelling? Why are they arguing?

And I realized later, like, oh, no, they're just talking. I know, it's such a cultural thing, totally. And so I think I already was a little bit primed with an interest toward Italy. And then as a young cook, like, even though it is called Chapinus, it's probably equally influenced by the foods of Italy and France. Yeah. And I would just notice day to day when I would be cooking, you know, be given a task to do. There was such a rigor and, I don't know, like stuck up about certain,

like in French cooking, you have to dice everything in a perfect cube. Yeah, yeah. And everything has to be like, it's so much more precise. Italian cooking is so much looser. It's kind of like, we'll make do with whatever we've had and rustic. And that really appealed to me. Those were the things I preferred to eat. They were definitely the things I was more curious about learning.

And I just, yeah, that was where I wanted to go. Yeah. I didn't really have an interest in France. Yeah. Yeah. I heard you recount how you, while working at Chapin, you figured out, like, It's salt, fat, acid, and heat. And you said it to his chef and he was like, yeah, no shit.

Yeah, totally. Yeah, duh. And then, but then you, you know, you're like, well, why didn't I, haven't I ever seen it? So let me make this. You know, so broken down, which I have found like in baking. You know, there's a lot more of that kind of theoretical thing. Like, you know, if you up the fat content, you have to up the, you know, the flour, you know, like there's this balance of all these different things. And, but so you went ahead and wrote.

this book and then the thing the interesting i mean it's a and it's a wonderful book and it you know it was a big success and then you are going to be a tv star i know so weird and i wonder how like how that you know because you weren't a performer really no but you know what's interesting is um so i i wonder a lot about actually do you want me to read you a crazy thing i found in my journal I found this, because I've, I've often been like, where did that come from in me? Like, who said, like, do you say, like, I'm going to host a show or does somebody say, hey, do you want to host a show or? Oh, well, you just want to know specifically how that happened, which I'll tell you, but I also just, this is such a funny. But I mean, I mean, I want to, you know.

This is such a funny thing that I just, I, it both like warms me and breaks my heart a little bit about myself. Where is the, I went, I found, when I was in that sort of journalistic self-inquiry, I was like, oh, I got to find all my old journals and stuff. And so I found this one, it's this page, it's just like two paragraphs, let me read it. And it's probably, I was probably 14 years old. Okay. And at the top it says, ideas for the future. Okay. This is so embarrassing. Okay. I want to be famous. Not because I'm a doctor, but because I'm me. If I have my own sitcom, so be it. I'll take that. I mean, if it's forced on me. It's just that I see so many famous people with my sense of humor. I would really like to have a fun job. If I have to make my doctor job fun, so be it. You can see I'm like struggling with the doctor.

Yeah, yeah. It's not that I don't want to be a doctor. I want to be famous too. I want people to say Samin went to La Jolla high school and everyone to gasp. Everyone's going, La Jolla High School. And it's so cringy. And also, like, I have so much compassion for that kid, right? Like, it's both.

And what's funny is I don't remember wanting to be famous in any active way. I don't remember that. I do remember as far as cooking, like, when I stopped working in restaurants, and I really was all, I had the idea for the book for salt, fat, acid heat. when I was a young cook and I really held on to it and it motivated me in my work in my life and that was always

the thing I was moving toward for almost 20 years and so there were different ways that I knew I needed to collect information and distill it and organize it to be able to communicate it to people and one of the ways

that I started doing that before I started working on the book was I would teach these cooking classes these salt fat acid heat classes like over the course of four weeks to people and I found them to be really inefficient. Because I was like, what? I could have 12, you know, middle-aged, like, Berkeley white

ladies coming to my class, and I'm just saying the same thing over and over again. And it's like, you know, I had to charge $150 to make it to pay for it or whatever. And I was just like, this seems, this isn't reaching who I want it to reach. So it seems like there's a much more efficient way to communicate this information, which would be through a television show. And I said, I confided in some of my cooking friends. And this was, yeah, probably late 2000. And I was like, oh, yeah, I think I could have a show where I teach this. And they just laughed me. They were like, that is so crude.

And like, ooh, who would want to be on television? Like, we do, like, late 2000s. And also you have to think of, like, Berkeley and like everyone considers them an art, themselves an artist. And like, it's like, ugh, television. Tacky. Yeah. Like, you have to go to Los Angeles for that.

Totally. Totally. And so it was in the back of my mind. And I always had like a, you know, I was teaching it in front of people. I kind of knew how to communicate the information to real live people. And the way I wrote the book, I learned that people, and also through my own self, that people learn in different ways. Right. So it was really important to me writing salt, fat, acid, heat that I conveyed information, the same information in multiple ways.

Yeah. So we would have a recipe that we like wrote out like a normal recipe. And then my wonderful friend who illustrated the book, Wendy McNaughton would make an illustrated version of the recipe to sort of visualize that for you. And then I would write it in text. I would write it in narrative form, too. So there would be these different ways you could learn the same skill. And that I noticed was really important in person, too. And so I just sort of honed that skill of, it is a little bit of a performance in front of people. You're like, you're kind of, and I'd be like, oh,

people need charts. People need this. Like, do some people need me to come hold their hand? Some people need this. And I did. I did. really sort of honed that because I taught that class probably for six years straight. Like, I taught it so much over and over and over again. Yeah. And then that, the like handouts from that class became my book proposal, which then eventually became the book. And while I was making that book, I was working with the writer Michael Pollan, who was writing a book about cooking, which was called Cooked. And he's a very sort of, um, first person like gets in the writing. You know, he has the experience, takes the drugs, whatever.

And so he hired me to teach him how to cook. I was his cooking teacher. And then he wrote about that in the book. And so I was a character in this book, which became a very early Netflix food series. There was sort of chef's table and cooked. Oh, yeah. And from what I understand, the episode that I appeared in did very well. Right, right.

And so there was. People were like, who's that girl? Yeah, exactly. Totally. Yeah. Just like that. And so there was sort of an interest, and I was sort of finishing my book. And so the people who made that show were like, oh, let's see your book.

And I was like, oh, yeah, you know, I've always thought this could be a show. I've always had an idea of how it could happen. And so it was really in so many ways, like a whole bunch of things magically aligning that, like, I happened to know these people. I happened to be in this thing. It was this moment in Netflix. Like, I also could do it. I think I didn't understand this until. I think we were pretty much done making that show,

but people always said to me, oh, you're a natural in front of the camera. And I never understood that meant. Yeah. I was like, what does that mean? And eventually I asked one of my friends who was a director, and I was like, Daniel, what does this mean? He's like, it just means you act the same when the camera's on.

Yeah, yeah. Exactly. And I was like, oh, I think I am missing whatever's in your mind that makes you freak out. To worry about it. Yeah, yeah. And so I was like, yeah, I can do that. You know, and there was just, I always have had this,

as you can tell, I talk over myself. I'm real crazy ADD, but I always am trying to explain things because sometimes I feel kind of dense, I guess. Sometimes I feel like I don't understand a lot of the time I feel like I don't understand what people are talking about. Or I remember as a baby cook,

there would be things where people would be like, oh, you just do this, just do this. And I was 14 steps behind. Right, right, go slower. And then eventually I would see the thing and I was like, oh, if you had just explained it in this other way, I totally could have done that. Yeah.

Six months ago. So I've always been like, what's the way to explain something? So it makes sense, you know, as like plain English as possible, you know? And that has become second nature to me. And I think that that helps, like sort of, yeah, I think I don't, I'm definitely by no means the best cook in the world. I'm not the best cook of my friends. I have so many more skilled and talented cook friends. I think my talent is communicating, is like distilling and communicating information.

Yeah. And that, yeah, and that's a born skill. Yeah. I think people have that or they don't, you know. Yeah. And it, and it's a great thing to have, like, and it's like, and it's something like that I try, like just to, when I'm writing things, like just this, like, how would you just tell somebody this in the simplest way for them to get it without like a bunch of, you know, arabesques and degrees and Lottie does? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, so you've got a new book coming. Yeah. Good things, recipes and rituals to share with people you love.

I guess what's it about? Like, it's sort of there in the title. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I mean, like I sort of said, this last stretch of time has been such a weird and in many times. Because there's been a time between salt fat. Yeah, yeah. And, you know, I don't know, actually, I'd be curious what your experience is, but like, I

was not prepared in any way for what would happen to me psychologically being on a Netflix show and what that would mean for my life. Yeah, yeah. And it's just that took a lot out of me and it just sort of uprooted me from my life and tumbled me a bit. And I was really tired too because I really just was going for years. And so probably by the end of 2019, I knew I needed to, to take 20-20 off. And then... And then I did. And the world said,

sure, why don't you stay home? Yeah, yeah. Yeah, and then, like, sort of this series of losses, like grand and small happened, and I, you know, I'm in the middle of that sort of responsible to write a second cookbook,

and I'm like, how am I, like, none of this feels very important. Like, I am dealing with all this other stuff. And so I had to find a way, a thing I've learned about myself is I can't produce, like, I can't be assigned something and then produce it. I have to want to make it from, the idea has to come from inside of me. I don't have enough, like, mojo to just deliver, to deliver. And so, if I couldn't

figure out why I wanted to make something or why it was meaningful, I had no juice to actually make it. And I felt so separate from food and from cooking for so many reasons. And I felt really lonely, too. I felt like I had been on this trajectory to make this book. and try and make it as good as I possibly could. And I did, and it was such a success beyond anything I could have imagined, and then this show happened, and all this praise. And once I got quiet and I could sort of sit in that afterward, I was like, I'm still as sad and lonely as I've ever been,

and maybe more so because now I don't actually have this thing to distract me and go make. And I was like, what is the point of, like, why am I killing myself for what? And, like, I'm just sitting here alone by myself and, like, Where's the joy in my life? And I kind of had to re-figure that out for myself and sort of reinvest in my friendships, in my relationships, in my relationship to nature, and most of the way that I relate to cooking and why I cook.

And a lot of that sort of I realized was about people and time. And especially watching my dad die, he died in such a lonely sort of sad pathetic way and you know in those last days I just remember feeling like wow this is a really sad way to die like to be on your deathbed and look back and be like I caused so much pain and so much chaos for people and I thought about what I wanted to be able to look back on when I'm dying which is like my friendships and my you know making beautiful things

and creativity and nature and my puppy dog and I was like feeding people rather than adding rather than it's attracting. And so that was, I was like, okay, that's what I want my life to be about. And I also, I think this is a common thing when you sort of are close to a death is I had this real sort of yolo, like a real sort of like time is limited. Oh my God. Because I've had this sense my whole life of, well, if I'm just good enough and I do the right thing and I don't scratch the car and I get the great A is like maybe I'm just sort of like add, I'm depositing into a goodness account from where. I will be rewarded big time later. Yeah, yeah.

And it's okay if I'm miserable now. Like, and I realize like, oh, there's no like with like grand withdrawal. Yeah, there's no banker paying attention. Yeah. And so I was like, oh, I have to have joy now. Like I can't just like beat myself up and only work. You know, I have to have. So there was just a lot of like, oh, yeah, people are like, you want to come to our babies

christening in New York? And I was like, I'm coming. You know, there was just a lot more of like, oh, let me take the trip. Let me do the thing. Let me take advantage of this time because time is this most precious thing that I will never be able to get more of. It's the only thing in life you'll never get more of. And so I started to think about food and cooking as an expression of that time. Because if time is my most precious and valuable currency, then my sharing my time with you is the most precious gift that I can give you.

And so a way that I can do that with the people in my life is by cooking. for them and by eating with them and cooking with them and spending time around food. It's a very sort of everyday way. But if I can think about it as a sacred thing and almost ritualize it, then there's more meaning. And I started to read a lot more about ritual. And, you know, ritual is so closely connected to a sense of meaning in life and a sense of happiness in life.

And historically in humankind, like rituals come to us through religion. But I'm not religious. And many people that I know in the Western world are not really religious in any meaningful way. And so without the structure of religion, the ritual often falls to the side. And so you hear about people being like, oh, we're going to create this, like, you know, family Sabbath or weekly, whatever. And often the practice sort of lasts three times and then dies, right? And I had this kind of amazing experience with some friends who were not even my – closest friends. They were sort of just people I'd known for very long time, but were maybe one

or two rings outside of my closest friends where I just started cooking and bringing food over and they would cook and we were to sort of, I would hang out with their kids and we just started doing it every week. And it became, for me, a life-saving thing. And I think for them, I didn't realize actually how important it became to them. And so now we've really consecrated it into a weekly ritual. We've been doing it for five years. And we think a lot about, like, I have, think we all do. We talk a lot about how it is that this one has like continued. How have we been able to keep it up? And I think we sort of tripped into a few things that have kept made it easier. I think a lot of times, for example, when people think, oh, let's have a group of,

a friend's group dinner, like ongoing dinner, your instinct is to like rotate homes, you know, have different people host. But we've never done that because I live by myself and they all live on the same block. And so we always just do it at the same house. And so that's like one less decision we have to make every week. Or like you're not moving, you always know, oh, at their house, they have this, this and this. I don't need to bring that. There's, it's always at the same time, same place, same people. Like, there's just an amount of decision making that's removed by doing that. There's a way where we sort of naturally have been able to divide labor and divide, like financial investment, you know, like we have amongst us a single mother. And so

like the rest of us sort of cover more, you know, or I'm just one person. So there's just ways where like that has really allowed the thing to flourish. And it's been beautiful to watch it become like this anchor of all of our lives and not just mine. And through the proximity, like the continued time spending together, we have grown to be very close. And I do consider them to be my family. I dedicated the book to them. And it is, yeah. And so that I think is very special. And that has led me to think about all of the ways like large and small that food is ritualized in my life. Like a lot of it is with the seasons every year. It's almost coming up actually. It's a apricot time. Yeah, yeah. And I go pick apricots and I make jam and that's the gift that I

sent to everyone. And so I don't know, things like just thinking about the pleasures of sort of being able to reflect on something week after week or year after year that does help me sort of connect to something larger. It's very aspirational. It's like, because I know from my own experience, I haven't done it. I got divorced. I got remarried and my wife and I bought an old house in Pasadena that is only half, you know, restored or half renovated. So I'm like slightly embarrassed by our chipped peeling paint and our like house that looks like a haunted house on from the outside um so i haven't done a lot of entertaining but i i have throughout my life and i always even when people didn't appreciate it i still was like it was important to me to cook to people

yeah and i and it was also then and i would try to i try to avoid the moral superiority of going to someone's house and like oh you had someone cook this you're like oh you had a caterer, well, guess you don't give a shit about us. You know, like that kind of thing, which I, like I say, I try not to do that. But when I do go to people's houses and they cook for me, I feel like so cared for. So cared for and like really grateful and really thankful that they, especially here where everybody's, their time is so fucking precious that they're like, it's like, you know, just to specifically name him, Jimmy Kimmel loves to cook. And you go to his house, he cooks for you. Yeah, that's awesome.

You know, and there's, you know, there's not, I mean, I love Conan O'Brien, but, like, I was at Conan O'Brien's house once, and he didn't know how to grill hot dogs. I was like, I saw him standing at his own grill, like going, like, you know, like a monkey with a computer, you know. I was like, give him to me. Just give them to me. But I just, I always appreciate that. And even, you know, like I'm, when I, like I say, like, I'll cook for, I won't, you know, family-in-law people and I just and I feel like hey didn't even really it didn't they didn't

even understand like all the time yeah yeah like all the the the beauty that went into this and and it's like I still want to do it yeah so I understand definitely that's like and I mean also too my wife it went between the time she met me and when we were married she gained about 15 pounds just because of my yeah yeah my love language of just like, here, banana bread. Yeah, just so. How did you learn how to cook? Standing next to my grandma, my, my parents divorced when I was young and we moved back

home with my grandmother. And there was a couple of years where my mom wasn't really doing that great, you know, because of the divorce. And she was working. She was waiting tables. And so I was left kind of with my grandma. So I, I. How old were you, like, eight or like older?

Four. Oh, really little. Yeah, yeah. And we were there. We lived there until I was nine, but definitely, like, you know, learned, yeah, like stood with her and she was a wonderful cook and a big baker and was always, there was always like the woman's club or the Kiwanis brunch or whatever, something to make, you know, something for. And then as I got older, too, like my mom was a good cook and it was always just, and it was something I was interested in. And I, you know, And I also, I find it's, you know, like I also can fix stuff. I'm also kind of, you know, when I grew up, you know, kind of building traits, like, you know, I can do carpentry and I can do some plumbing and stuff. It's all related. It's all with the house. It's all related. It's all spatial putting things. Totally.

You know, putting together an IKEA table is like making a meal. 100% that I don't, you know, that unless you do it, you don't understand it. So it's still, it's like a very important thing. And then there is, and I'm not even one. Like, I rarely use the word spiritual, except when making fun of things. But there is something definitely, like, spiritual about it. And it is, like, one of the things you've got to do. Totally.

And I think that was a big shift for me was, like, talking to some of my friends who are parents of, you know, kids under 10, basically, which is, like, a totally different relationship to cooking. Yeah, yeah. And one of them was like, she said, if I, I sort of just had this realization that this is this thing I have to do every day. And so I can either approach it with sort of like resentment and frustration or I can decide to make it something full of joy and something, you know, sensory that I get to look

forward to away from my desk at the end of the day. And that's not to like, you know, I want to be clear. Like, of course, there's labor involved. Sure, sure. I'll throw a fucking frozen pizza in the oven. You know, like, there you go. I mean, me too. And I have a five-year-old now.

So it's like, look, she ate an apple, some peanut butter, some cheese. That's a win, man. Yeah, and some Cheetos. That's a meal. Yeah. So she's done. Totally. So it's, but.

Yeah, in the dishes. Yeah. I mean, there's so much. It's, it's, it's, it's, it's, it's, I acknowledge all of that. And also, even our, even our, even our weekly dinners that we have, they're often, we'd have ordered pizza before. We have ordered up, but not, it's not only, I think that's also what I'm trying to talk to people about is, I think in this world where, um, um, um, so much sort of there's so many forces sort of separating us yeah putting us in front of a

screen instead of another person there is just this one way that's already built into our lives to sort of have a moment with each other yeah and it's already there and so if we can take advantage of it there will just be a lot more joy in your life yeah and it doesn't mean i think everyone is ina garton or martha you know it's not at all that it's not perfection it's actually often total imperfection. I think, you know, like I say in the book, the perfect is the enemy of the good. You know, like, this is just good things.

Like, just good enough. Right, right. It's not, everything doesn't have to be the best. Everything doesn't have to be, it's just sort of taking advantage of the, like, beautiful little things before us. Yeah, yeah. Yeah, like, you know, my wife's a vegetarian,

so I make Ratatouille a lot. But I'm not layering a bunch of sliced vegetables. I don't even like it that way. It's a big stew. I think it tastes better. Well, let's go through the things people need to get from you. Oh, okay. After a three-year hiatus, your podcast, Home Cooking that you co-hosts with Rishi, Rishikesh-Hirway.

Rishikesh Hereway, thank you. And he's, he, oh, Song Exploder. He's the Song Exploder guy. So you guys are coming back with that. Yeah, we're going to start doing it again in August. We started it in the pandemic and people really, it was a kind of a call-in show of advice of what I do with all this whatever, X, Y, you fill in the way. Right.

And it was very silly and heartwarming, and so we're going to do that again. And Rishi's going to come on tour with me on some of my book tour event stops. Yeah. So we'll sort of have in-person versions of the podcast home cooking. Great. And that'll be real. That's some of my favorite cooking is, what have I got? Yeah.

And what can I make? Me too. Yeah, yeah. Love that. And then you also launched a substack called a grain of salt, recipes, video tutorials, field trips. That's nice. And good things, recipes and rituals to share with people you love will be out September 2025. Yep.

And you can pre-order it now. Yeah. And if you pre-order it, you can take a cooking class with me that we're going to do the week before my book comes out. And pre-order it at a little bookstore. Yes, yes. You know, the big guys, they'll be fine. They're fine. So, well, Simi Nasra, thank you so much.

This is a wonderful chat. Thank you so much. I really enjoyed having you here. No, don't thank them. Don't thank them. I'll never hear the end of it. But thank you so much. And good luck with the book. I'm sure you won't need it. I look forward to seeing it. Thank you. I hope you get to make something yummy from it.

I will. I will, definitely. And thank all of you out there for listening. I'll be back next week with more of the three questions. The three questions with Andy Richter is a team cocoa production. It is produced by Sean Doherty and engineered by Rich Garcia. Additional engineering support by Eduardo Perez and John. Joanna Samuel, executive produced by Nick Leow, Adam Sacks, and Jeff Ross, talent booking by Paula Davis, Gina Batista, with assistance from Maddie Ogden, research by Alyssa Graal. Don't forget to rate and review and subscribe to the three questions with Andy Richter wherever you get your podcasts.

And do you have a favorite question you always like to ask people? Let us know in the review section. Can't you tell my loves are growing? Can't you feel it ain't you showing? Oh, you must be a knowing. I've got a big, big love. This has been a team Coco production.