“The real roots of my love of food come from the vegetable garden that my parents had during the Second World War. They had a victory garden. I remember being sat out there in the strawberry patch, eating the berries warm off the plant. I was a very picky eater as a kid. I liked beans, corn and tomatoes. And I probably liked all of those things because they came right out of our garden. I could see myself wanting to cook my last meal, feeling the ritual of it and wanting to be present in that way. But, there’s nothing like eating food cooked by…
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