Introduction

By the time I was sixteen I knew without doubt that I wanted to cook. But my decision to leave school after taking O levels to go to the local domestic science college did not meet with the approval of my headmistress. At the bottom of the card announcing my exam results, she wrote: ‘I still think it is a great pity that you are not coming back to us in the autumn . . .’ A training in catering was only an option for those who weren’t bright enough to study Latin or something more academic.

I emerged from the two-year course, limited still by post-War austerity and rationing, adept at baking a wide selection of scones, but ignorant of most of the basics of a restaurant kitchen. I didn’t even know how to section an orange, let alone anything more technical.