Pepper spray, a Taser, a suckling pig and a self-built motorized spit. It's a perfect Thanksgiving, 'MythBusters'-style.

A week before Thanksgiving, my mother bought the turkey, frozen. Then she froze it some more. Then she let it thaw and cleaned it - and I mean really cleaned it, because nobody wanted a 'dirty bird.' She salt-and-peppered the turkey, buttered, paprika-ed, and nominally stuffed it.

At the start of each week, I generally cook a box of quinoa, and while it's simmering, I saute onions, garlic and any veggies I have on hand in a separate pan. I season the vegetables with Spike, a seasoning blend my mom always used when I was growing up, or a little Bragg Liquid Aminos. I always add crushed red pepper and chopped fresh herbs.

I use those medical gloves that fit very tightly and are disposable for all chopping - peppers, onions, garlic, etc. Very Lady Macbeth, I think.

I have, like, a playlist with all my favourite songs on it. Sadie's Playlist is the soundtrack of my life. 'Wonderwall' by Oasis, 'Under The Bridge' by Red Hot Chili Peppers, TLC, 'Waterfalls' - I love the '90s.

When we were younger, but still of legal drinking age, it would be things like Goldschlager or peppermint schnapps. Things like that are not something I ever enjoyed.

My parents were/are straight-edge hippies. Mom roamed around gardening so we would have fresh food, and Dad was on wood-chopping duty to heat our passive solar home that they figured out how to design and build together. I was the kid with green peppers in my lunch, and I liked them!

We are delightfully trapped by our memories. I can't drink a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape Vieux Telegraphe without revisiting a hotel bistro in Luzerne, Switzerland, where I ate a large bowl of a peppery Basque baby goat stew. A sip and a bite. A bite and sip. Goose bumps come with the divine conjunction of food and wine.

The disparity between a restaurant's price and food quality rises in direct proportion to the size of the pepper mill.

There are going to be birthdays, weddings, BBQs and work dos and you are entitled to have a few drinks, a slice of cake, a pepperoni pizza or an Easter egg every now and then.

Mexican food is far more varied than people think. It changes like dialects. I was brought up in Jalisco by the sea on a basic diet - tomatoes, chillis, peppers of every size and rice, which is a Mexican staple. The Pacific coast has a huge array of seafood.

I went on a Hot Pocket diet where I ate two Hot Pockets every four hours. I only had the pepperoni pizza flavour. I didn't go anywhere near the cheeseburger macaroni.

On June 3, 2015, in keeping with a long tradition, I visited my home club in the Pepper Pike suburb of Cleveland, known simply as The Country Club. It's an old William Flynn design and perhaps the most underrated course in America. It's elegant, challenging and filled with old-world charm.

Faith is salted and peppered through everything at Christmas. And I love at least one night by the Christmas tree to sing and feel the quiet holiness of that time that's set apart to celebrate love, friendship, and God's gift of the Christ child.

I'm proud to be part of the Dr. Pepper Scholarship Giveaway. It's a great program that gives me the chance to brighten the day for some lucky college students with free tuition.

I mix all different oils - my bathroom at home is littered with oils; I'm really into natural beauty and natural healing. Peppermint is really good if you put it on your stomach for a tummy ache; lavender is kind of all-purpose - I think everyone should carry it.

My heart is small, like a love of buttons or black pepper.

I'm forever near a stereo saying, 'What the fuck is this garbage?' And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

"I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and ats the horseradish loves the miyagi, and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written.

There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.

My two secrets to staying healthy: wash your hands all the time. And if you can't use Purell or one of the sanitizers. And the other is hot peppers. I eat a lot of hot peppers. I for some reason started doing that in 1992 and I swear by it.

In order to have good fried chicken you should wash and season the bird the morning you're preparing it for dinner. Don't wait and do it right before you start cooking. Throw it in the refrigerator seasoned that morning and give it a chance to soak up all the salt and pepper and goodness.

I never liked apples. In fact when I was a little girl my mom wanted to give me apples in my lunch box and I would ask for green peppers. So bizarre... It's funny - I don't have an apple a day but I can say that I have a few a week.

I'm not afraid to call a wine that tastes like Skittles or green peppers mixed with orange marmalade. I'll say 'It tastes like chicken.' I mean that's not what people think of when they think of wine but that's what it tastes like to me and it hits home.