Becoming a chef: I wanted to be a chef from the moment that my mother was feeding me that amazing warm, sweet liquid gold. You know? I have a feeling that it was that connection. That has to be an important moment for who we are, this loving relationship that we have with food.
About his parents: My mom and dad cooked at home. We didn't go to restaurants. My father, especially on Sundays, would cook for everybody. He had these big paella pans. My father always put me in charge of making the fire. He never allowed me to do the cooking when I was young. But one day I wanted to cook, and I told my dad, "Let me cook, let me stir the ingredients." And he said, "No, you have to do the fire." I got very upset and he sent me away.
After everybody ate, he pulled me aside and he said, "My son, I don't know that you realize your value. You have been a very important part of making this paella, all this time, helping me to be successful. You are the only one to make the fire, who has the sense to know when I need the big one, and when I need the low one. My son, everybody wants to do the cooking, everybody wants to stir the pot, but the most important piece is to make the fire, to tend the fire. Once you control the fire, then and only then can you do anything you want to do with your life."
Obviously for a cook, this was a very important lesson. But in the end I realized that it was much more than that. It was a metaphor of life. We are all always concentrating on the cooking of our lives, but not very often do we understand the fire underneath. We need to ask ourselves if we know what the fire is and, more important, are we able to control it? Once we understand what is underneath, I think we get so much more out of life. For me, and for my father who has passed, I think forever I will be very grateful for this story.
His military service: I go to the navy [in his teens, after culinary school]. I want to go on a ship. But what does everyone in the navy want me to do? Cook for the admiral. So they send me to the house of the admiral to cook. I said to him, "Let me be honest with you. I don't want to cook. I want to go on a boat." And the admiral said, "You're going to do one thing: My wife needs you for six months. If you behave, I'll send you on a boat six months from now."
I ended up on one of the most beautiful tall ships in history — four masts — the Juan Sebastián de Elcano. It was 300 people on the ocean for six months. I came to understand the value of teamwork. We crossed the Atlantic twice. First time I came to America, in Pensacola, Fla. But then we went to New York, under the Verrazzano Bridge. I was up in the mast, 30 meters. You see Lady Liberty, Ellis Island. I docked on the West Side, almost on 30th Street, 30 years ago. Last year — it was 30 years, to the day — I opened my biggest restaurant yet, in New York, on 30th Street.