I'm an American chef. I'm American. I live here. I love being here. But, of course, it is different. A black man's journey is different.

Marcus Samuelsson

Marcus Samuelsson

Profession: Chef
Nationality: Ethiopian

Some suggestions for you :

I had great schooling, and my parents were always in front of me, or next to me, or behind me, making sure I had whatever I needed.

Most people cringe at the thought of a casserole.

As people of color, it took a whole generation in many ways to get us out of the kitchen, and it's gonna take us the same whole generation to get us back into the kitchen and have ownership of restaurants, hotels and stuff like that.

Salad can get a bad rap. People think of bland and watery iceberg lettuce, but in fact, salads are an art form, from the simplest rendition to a colorful kitchen-sink approach.

I love using rice as a flour; I'll grind roasted rice and dip fish in that. It gives a beautiful, crunchy texture.

I'm lucky to live in New York, a city that offers so many options for lunch. I can pick up dumplings from a Midtown food truck, grab empanadas by the dozen in Spanish Harlem or get a fantastic bowl of ramen in the East Village.

The journey into adoption started for my parents, as it does with so many families: my mother and father desperately wanted to have kids, but they couldn't.

I came into this environment where there was so much love, so much positive energy. I never heard my parents say, 'We have adopted kids.' The minute my sister Linda and I landed in Sweden, we were their kids.

I feel fortunate to be part of the cooking community. We learn from each other.

We know so much about the European food story, and we're getting to know about the American food story; but we know so little about the African food story.

My family's journey is something I am very proud of - in front of me, behind me and every part.

It wasn't until I came to New York and started to see the African American community, but also the Ethiopian community here, and started to eat the food, started to understand the music. I said, you know, I got to go and understand the culture. So me and my sister went.

I credit my grandmother for teaching me to love and respect food. She taught me how to waste nothing, to make sure I used every bit of the chicken and boil the bones till no flavor could be extracted from them.

I always suggest something fast and simple so you have more time to share with friends; and when we think of the ultimate food to serve for a football game, only one thing comes to mind - wings!