My father was working class and going out to eat was a big deal to him, always. He relished every bite and wanted me to weigh in with opinions. I remember his delight when, aged six, I ate my first oysters and I wish he was alive to feed my kids their first oysters. Because food is so associated with him, since he died I've had melancholic associations. It's very hard for me to make buttermilk pancakes - they're so specific to him and I get choked up every time. I get really sad he's not with me when I discover a new restaurant or return somewhere he loved, like Chez L'Ami Louis in Paris.

Cooking was something my mother felt she had to do rather than loved. She especially hated making breakfast. Yet her eggy pudding, toast, breakfast thing was delicious. It was egg and bread as a sort of soufflé. To be honest, I don't know what it was.

I was an exchange student in Spain at 15, staying for a year with a family. My Spanish mother was a delightful cook. She owned a brick factory, a gas station and a store and she'd go run the businesses and come home at lunch and make paella for everyone, then head back to work. I got obsessed with her morcilla, which I found out was pig's blood sausage but not until way too late.

I hung out with Leonardo DiCaprio when I moved to New York. He was vegetarian and he'd talk about how dirty meat is and how bad factory farming is. I haven't eaten red meat in 20 years and although Leo's not totally responsible he definitely planted a seed. When I turned seriously macrobiotic, it coincided with my father having been diagnosed with cancer [in 1999]. I felt I could heal him by proxy.

I didn't really start cooking until I quit university to try to be an actress and was working as a hostess in a fish restaurant. At 19 I cooked my worst meal ever. I only had aubergines and a jar of tomato sauce, so I thought I'd make eggplant parmesan but didn't have a cookbook. I made this hideous mess of bitter, burnt mush. But I served it. We were all starving, so we had no choice.

I ate the most when pregnant with my son. I couldn't stop. I was starving, the whole time. During a good portion of my pregnancies all I wanted was grilled cheese sandwiches, Baskin Robbins Jamoca Almond Fudge ice cream, yoghurt and lots of apples.

I've lived in England for 10 years and the accent is the most beautiful in the world, except for how you pronounce pasta as pass-ta instead of pah-sta. I'm sort of joking when I say this but I really don't want my children speaking that way.

My husband prefers my food to any other – it's very sweet.

After we moved to NY, I attended Spence school and was allowed out during lunch and free periods and would head with the girls to Jackson Hole, a greasy burger joint which did great tuna melts. We mainly ate french fries there, with coffee and cigarettes - that's what I subsisted on.

Eating while filming a scene is the worst thing, because you have to keep eating the same thing all day long. You'll notice that most films with food the actors aren't actually eating, but I try consciously to eat to make it real, but most of the time I'll spit it out to avoid feeling sick. I'm sure there must have been eating scenes, especially playing a 330lb character in Shallow Hal, but I don't remember that film well to be honest.

I have an old knife of my father's which we bought at E Dehillerin [the kitchen equipment specialist] in Paris. It's not stainless steel, it very much staining steel, but it's a beautiful knife and he used it so much and that's why I prize it. My knives are really my thing. I use Japanese knives and there's a company in Brooklyn called Cut where this guy makes incredible knives and my husband bought me one recently. It's really beautiful and incredibly sharp.

My brother and I made and packed our own school lunches, back in the day at Crossroads school in Santa Monica. I used to toast a bread roll and put mustard and salami on it – it would be really hard but I loved the texture, and that's basically what I had every lunch.

All I do is try to eat and cook real food, the way our ancestors would. It's funny how people react, as if it's revolutionary that I don't want my children to eat Oreos, or the English equivalent, every day. I believe in real food, things being delicious, and butter,in minimally processed delicious foods and raw milk cheese and properly raised chicken and line-caught fish. But I'm a realist and I have kids and I love Oreos too, so honestly I'm not rigid at all.