In your memoir, ‘‘Love, Loss and What We Ate,’’ you write that foods are like men: ‘‘Some are good, some are bad and some are O.K. only in small doses. But most should be tried at least once.’’ Which of the two prompts more regret when you’ve made a bad choice? I don’t have any regrets, thankfully. I don’t even regret trying tripe. But I think human beings do way more damage to each other than anything you can cook in a pot.

The book is about food, but what surprised me is that it’s also about feminism. Do you consider yourself a feminist? Absolutely. I would say that I come from a long line of feminists. Maybe my grandmother wouldn’t call herself one — just because she didn’t know to — but if she started describing her philosophies, they would be in line with the notion that men and women are equal. I don’t think I would date somebody who didn’t consider himself a feminist, frankly.

But you had a very lovely relationship with a Republican, Teddy Forstmann. You’re assuming that a Republican is not a feminist.

So you think he was? I think more people are feminists than they let on.

You write a lot about your struggles with endometriosis — a painful disorder where the uterine lining grows outside the uterus — and I found that had an explicitly feminist tone to it, too. Absolutely. I mean, if I had prostate cancer, I would have many more options at my disposal. If I couldn’t get an erection, I’d have a lot more options at my disposal.