The letter... and everything after

Twelve months ago sat drinking chai somewhere in India I wrote a letter that changed a lot...

The first supper; Back in 1989 at the age of ten my family and I visited friends in a small village in Rouen, France. The setting itself was like nothing I had ever seen, a beautiful converted barn set amongst a cider orchard with its own fishing lake and pressing barn. The farmhouse kitchen led onto a long dining room with long wooden table and benches to match, where each morning we scoffed buckets of hot chocolate and croissants. On the last night of our stay we gathered around and enjoyed the most memorable meal of my life.

A large casserole dish of a monkfish stew was served and ladled into bowls. Huge chunks of monkfish came in a rich sauce neither too thick nor to thin and had a warm, almost sweet aroma to it. I had never eaten monkfish before and have never tasted monkfish like it since. The firm yet delicate texture of the flesh dissolved slowly and the continuous waves of flavour put a smile on my face. At the age of ten I discovered the meaning of the word 'content' and at that moment could have wanted for nothing more. That's the beauty of food; smells can transport you in a instant, tastes can unlock distant memories but most importantly the experience and pleasures of eating great food simply stay with you.

Sadly, the bowls were eventually drained and mopped clean by the remaining bread but the meal was far from over. Out came a dessert you could only of dreamed of as a young boy, 'a cake made of ice cream!'. A local shop specialised in this amazing gateaux and Wall's Vienetta it was not! So this is how my hobby, interest, love, obsession or whatever you want to call it began with food. The trend continued and food is still my passion along with travel. Pho Bo in Vietnam, Tom Yum in Thailand, Roast Lamb and Beetroot in New Zealand, Clotted Cream in Cornwall or Oysters in Oban, I genuinely love food.

... the letter went on to ask for a job and  I sent said letter to the top of the food chain and got very, very lucky.

In brief, I relocated and started work as a Commis for some of the most respected chefs in the country.  They taught me so much in so little time from simply tearing a salad leaf to carving a pig’s head and everything in-between.  It also taught me that to create truly incredible food is a lifetime’s commitment and you have to sacrifice almost all but the kitchen.  A sacrifice I sadly wasn’t ready to take.

During my time in the kitchen my Sous Chef was never fully convinced that this was the first professional kitchen I had ever worked in and decided I was an undercover journalist cunningly disguised as his Commis Chef to keep an eye on them all.  And there you have it The Undercover Commis was born.

So, I've hung up my white jacket and picked up a pencil.  Maybe I was always going to be a better eater then I was a cook... but now its time to concentrate on the writing.

Thanks to all who made things happen and hope you enjoy the blog.