I think I was born with a food brain. Just like someone like Jamie Oliver, someone likeNigel Slater, someone likeNigella. I’m not putting myself in the same company as them – they just popped into my head – but when I see a plate of food, when I take that first taste, there are thoughts and things happening because I’ve got this brain that is wired for food. But I’ve also honed that skill over years and years and years.
When I wrote my first cookbook, I’d just finished being a restaurant chef and I used to think: “How difficult can it be to make a bechamel on a Wednesday night?” So my books become simpler. And that’s not just because I’ve become lazier. I’ve got young children and the time I have to cook family meals is much shorter. I really want to make dinner times delicious but also really easy.
My dad’s nine of 12 siblings. We would spend Sundays at my nan’s house and you’d end up with 20, 30, 40 people in this tiny terraced house. Nan would be in her minuscule kitchen, cooking a Sunday roast, and of course, there was nowhere for anyone to sit. Me and my sister used to share the arms of a sofa. That communal, convivial eating really informed how I wanted to eat and cook. Make people happy with food in that way that I saw in my nan’s house.
In my 20s, I remember reading an article in a Sunday supplement that said: “You should determine your calling in life by the part of the Sunday paper you turn to first.” I was like, “Well, that’s obvious. It’s cooking.” I applied to Fifteen [Jamie Oliver’s training programme] the next day at work, and by the end of the week I had been offered a place and I’d quit my job.
I was a bit embarrassed when I became vegetarian because it was really a time when meat was king. All the young chefs I knew were desperate to work at St John and cook pig’s head. I was going in the opposite direction. But giving up meat and fish was the opposite of hard. I was just so invigorated. If you limit yourself, sometimes you can be more creative within those limitations.
After my first son was born I went pretty low andhad postnatal depression. It was a good few years ago, but it felt quite difficult to find inspiration and be excited about food and that was horrible. Food was always the thing that got me out of bed, it’s been a shared passion with my family, my husband, my children. So to not care about it felt harrowing, frankly. But luckily, it’s kind of all come back.
In this age of social media and multi-hyphenate careers, you can persuade yourself you need to have a book, a restaurant, a YouTube channel… But, the older I’ve got, the more I realise that one thing done well feels great. I feel happy writing recipes. I’m going to sound trite, but it does feel like a bit of magic that someone will cook for their family a recipe that I’ve come up with in my kitchen. I’ll never get over how good that feels.
My favourite things
Food
It’s got to be ice-cream and I feel like Kitty Travers [La Grotta Ices] has jumped into my head and come up with my dream flavours that I hadn’t even dreamed up yet. So an iced sundae glass of Kitty’s ice cream, yes please!
Drink
A caper-brine margarita. Obviously you put olive brine in loads of different drinks so I just thought, “Couldn’t you do it with caper brine?” It’s salty, it’s got a bit of umami to it. It’s got literally all the flavour profiles going on in one drink.
Place to eat
Botanica in Silver Lake, Los Angeles. It’s farmers’ market fare: Californian produce treated with a very light touch in the kitchen.
Dish to make
We have a handed-down recipe in my family for Welsh cakes and every year on St David’s day, I make it with my son. I love Welsh cakes. He loves Welsh cakes. Everyone loves Welsh cakes.
