I'd studied business management back in New Zealand but arrived in London at 22 half my life ago without a clue what to do. I landed a job as a dishwasher at the French House Dining Room in Soho and loved it. I worked out a system effective rinsing, adequate soaking, methodical stacking and, being so enthusiastic, I got involved prepping fish, making ice-cream, all sorts.
[Owners] Margot and Fergus Henderson offered to train me as a chef. And within six months, they went abroad for six weeks and left me to my own devices. I was shitting myself. But Fergus's parents came into the restaurant and reported back that they enjoyed the tripe and onions which reminds me of the smell of elephant's cage. I realised I could cook something I don't even like.
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