The singer-songwriter on Mum’s Caribbean cooking, food platters with Prince – and the worst time to have a burger
I grew up in a little terraced house in Selly Park, Birmingham. The rickety old piano was in the dining room. I’d usually practise while the smells of mum’s cooking – ackee and saltfish – drifted in from the kitchen. A piano and dining table are practically one and the same in my mind.
One church we attended had Caribbean evenings on Saturdays, where members of the congregation would put on performances, which would all happen around Caribbean food, with people eating while sitting on pews. The first thing me, my brother and my sister played, as a string trio, was the Jamaican folk tune Mango Tree. Some years later dad took us to meet my great-uncle in Jamaica and I tasted mangoes as they’re supposed to taste.
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