This book is dedicated to the Wigmore-Reynolds, the Van Nices, the Turly-Burnses, the McCartney-Willises, the Nadal-Saxe-Coburgs, the Cameron-Cleggs and all the other little people with whom I have shared so many wonderful meals. But the biggest thank you goes to the trees who gave me their permission to be pulped.
Illustration for the Guardian by Neal Fox
I literally could not have written this book without the literal assistance of Julia Turshen who literally did all the cooking and writing while I literally did yoga classes and literally had my hair done for the photo-shoot.
"Why?" you may ask, would the world's greatest actress wish to share her kitchen secrets. It is because I have the secret of eternal life. When my beloved father, who taught me so much about cooking, was diagnosed with cancer in 1998, I became convinced I could cure him with a macrobiotic diet. Sadly he died, but only because he had eaten too much steak and chips when he was young. But with these recipes my children and possibly your children, if they have double-barrelled surnames, can live for ever, and if you think I'm going to mention my idiot husband Chris and his rubbish band then you've got another think coming – he's never supported my ambition to be hailed as the new lifestyle goddess of those with too much time on their hands.
How to use this book Get a member of your staff to read it out loud while you are having a pedicure. If a recipe sounds tasty, ask him to cook it. If some ingredients are unavailable, call my favourite gourmet organic deli in Bel Air and have them flown over.
Vegetarian chilli When my daughter, Apple, was six months old she informed me she was a vegetarian. This is a recipe she has come to love. It's really very easy. Feel the pain of the carrots as you dice them and fry gently. Add some beans until you have a sludge. Serve with rice. (NB I only use wholegrain rice grown near the Tibet border. This takes four hours to cook, which is why I like to involve my children in the kitchen experience. Apple likes nothing more than staring at a saucepan while I nip out to phone Sting and Trudie.)
Bitter leaf salad Few things are as good for your liver as bitter greens – they support its detoxification. When it's cold and you feel like a hearty meal, there's nothing better than a puntarelle or escarole head. Go easy on the anchovy vinaigrette, or you could bloat.
Stick insect pancakes After meditating with some of LA's most profound mystics, I have come to realise that you are what you eat. If you eat pork, you will look like a pig. If you eat stick insects . . . just look at me. Place stick insects in cold water, then bring to boil while praying for their immortal souls. Add to pancake mix. Do not, under any circumstances, serve with sugar.
Asian portobello burgers I've come to realise that meals are a very special time when families come together. Ours is no exception, so my people have created a special app so that I can talk to Apple and Moses if I am in the gym when they are having lunch. As an American I have burgers in my DNA and there's nothing quite like the thrill of telling kids you are cooking them burgers, then seeing the disappointment on their little faces when you serve them up a mushroom!
Duck ragu One year Jamie Oliver came round to cook me lunch on my birthday. I expect he does that for you, too. He cooked this amazing duck pasta and I have literally spent the last 250 years trying to perfect it. Get a surgeon to give another duck at the Malibu Center for Desperately Sick Mallards a chance of life by transplanting the heart of the duck you are going to eat. Roast duck for two hours, then discard all fat. Not that I have any. Serve with spaghetti.
Apple crumble Slice one Apple into quarters and sprinkle with a light crumble. Put in oven. (NB Not suitable for vegetarians).
Digested read, digested: Thank you, thank you for . . . indulging me.
©guardian.co.uk
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