If you haven’t been spending some quality television time in the Yorkshire Dales, you’ve really been missing out. The second season of All Creatures Great and Small, based on James Herriot’s series of memoirs of the same name, has returned to Masterpiece, on PBS. And actor Samuel West, who portrays the eccentric veterinarian Siegfried Farnon, is once again something of a scene-stealer. For West, acting is in the blood. (His parents, Prunella Scales and Timothy West, and paternal grandfather, Lockwood West, were all highly regarded for their many performances on the stage and screen.) And the role of Farnon seems especially close to his heart. Here, the London-based actor and director shares his key components to the good life. —Ashley Baker

Airline: Deutsche Bahn.
Airport: St. Mary’s, Isles of Scilly.
Alibi: “That’s not my dog.”
App: ChessKid on the sofa with the children.
Bag: Tote from Lukedrewthis with my daughter’s drawing printed on it.
Beach: Dungeness, Kent. In any weather.
Bedtime: Early, ready for bird-watching at first light.
Bike: A vintage Pashley unicycle.
Birthday: The next one. Getting there is always a nice surprise.
Boyfriend/girlfriend: Anyone fond of geeks.
Breakfast, weekday: Cold pizza.
Breakfast, weekend: Blueberry buttermilk pancakes with the family.
Car: 1957 VW Karmann Ghia.
Child: One old enough to play Dungeons & Dragons with.
Cocktail: A Singapore sling—long but with a kick.
Cocktail appetizer: Pickled Onion Monster Munch.
Couple: Peanut butter and Marmite.

Date: Dinner and a movie.
Dinner, weekday: Pasta puttanesca.
Dinner, weekend: Squash-and-black-bean enchiladas with Rick Bayless’s four-million-ingredient self-made Mexican mole.
Dinner date: Laura Wade and a bag of chips.
Disguise: Confidence.
Dress: One with pockets.
Drive: London to Norfolk at four a.m. on a Sunday morning in May.
Enemy: Across the chessboard, silent.
Escape: The Scottish Highlands by sleeper.
Excuse: “I saw it in a cartoon once, and I thought it might work.”
Expression: “Cheesy goose.” That’s things that should never be recycled, named after one of my mother’s cooking mishaps.
Family: Mine, but less shouty.
Flaw: You’re too kind.
Friend: Clemency Burton-Hill.
Good-bye: “Be seeing you!” (Prisoner-style.)
Hideaway: A Landmark Trust house.

Hotel:
A good one in the city where you live. So naughty.

insult: “Born on third base and thinks he hit a triple.”
Jacket: Phil Collins said I didn’t need one.
Kiss-off: “I must decline, for secret reasons.” —E. B. White
Last Meal: Caffè Reale—cinnamon-spiced mascarpone and baby figs—from Pizza Express.
LUNCH DATE: An old friend and nothing to do that afternoon.
Lunch, weekday: A 90-second two-egg omelet.
Lunch, weekend: At the pub with my parents.
Match: A.F.C. Wimbledon scoring a last-minute winner against M.K. Dons.
Mentor: Roger Michell. Much missed.
Movie: A screwball comedy. Fast, funny, feminist.
Neighbor: One with borrowable power tools.
Nonfiction book: Something about physics, probably by Brian Cox.
Novel: Howards End, by E. M. Forster.
Pants: Warm from the dryer, not cold from the floor.
Pet: A rat. Or two.
Piece of advice: “Parenthood is gardening, not carpentry.”

Podcast: The Rest Is History.
President: The love child of Kamala Harris and Jacinda Ardern.
Restaurant: Maison Pic. I’ve never been.
Ride: On horseback down the Al Siq canyon to Petra.
Saying: “It is excellent to have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant.” —William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure
Shoes: Handmade, ludicrously unaffordable.
Singer: Dory Previn. Funny about anger: Nora Ephron set to music.
Spouse: Betty Rubble.
Storm: Watched from safe inside with a glass of Lagavulin.
Television series: Parks and Recreation. Together, we are more than the sum of our parts.
Theme song to your life: “My Way,” sung by Sid Vicious.
Time of day: Just before dawn.
Timepiece: A sundial from Cardozo Kindersley.
Toast: “May I live to see you old and brushing your grandchildren’s hair.”
Vacation: Two weeks on the British canals.
View: The moons of Jupiter through a small telescope.
Wake-up time: 5:50 a.m., 10 minutes before the alarm.
Weekend bag: Packed for Stockholm.
Work of art: One that brings people together, probably through singing.

Samuel’s Essentials