I grew up in a family where the men did not cook. My father was a master of beans on toast at the weekend, but my mother cooked most of our meals.
Both my father and older brother were engineers, brilliant engineers at that, but there were no Marco Pierre Whites in the kitchen. It was never expected that I followed in their footsteps, however, it was a path I had no interest in walking down.
My interest in food was kindled in my first job as a weekend pot washer in a health club where I learned basic culinary skills. From there my interest in food only grew and I was shortly promoted to commis chef.
I remember waiting patiently for the internet to dial up on our family computer at home to look up exciting new recipes. I was hooked.
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