(posted 7319 days ago)Evening Standard
05/04/04 - Career news sectionFrom Brixton Market to haute cuisine
By Elisha CarterIt was my mother who taught me to love food. Some of my earliest memories are of watching her working in the kitchen, although I never dared get involved. That was definitely women's territory. My father comes from the West Indies, and my mother from Zimbabwe. The food we ate at home was typically Afro-Caribbean - curried chicken, rice and peas, yam puree and fried plantain.
It never failed to impress me that with a full-time job as a midwife and eight children of her own to look after, my mother always managed to provide a home-cooked meal in the evening.
With my six older sisters, my older brother, parents, and assorted family friends crammed round the table, mealtime at our home in Kennington, south London, was always a great social event.
We did all our food shopping at Brixton Market and as a boy I would go with my mother every Saturday.
There, you would see trays of pigs' trotters, halal chicken hung in rows by their feet, Caribbean fish and vegetables and tubs of colourful Indian spices all jostling for space in the never-ending maze of market stalls. As you can imagine, my mother bought in bulk and was an expert at working on a tight budget.
Nowadays, as head chef at Lola's restaurant in Islington, I buy ingredients from the best independent suppliers in the country, but I'd like to think I have learned a thing or two about haggling from watching my mother shopping at Brixton Market.
At Pimlico School, I was one of three boys - along with 22 girls - who took home economics at GCE O-Level. The boys would usually make a few comments at football practice but it didn't bother me. I enjoyed the practical nature of cooking. And of course, I liked to eat.
In the sixth form I took a CPVE - a forerunner to the NVQ - in hospitality, which included an industry work placement. I was sent to Shell House to help out in the directors' private dining room.
We prepared canapés, prawn cocktails, beef bourguignon and trifle, among other things. These dishes seem quite provincial now, but at the time I'd never seen such ornate and exotic food.
I was amazed at how fast the chef moved around, chopping, arranging and tasting food. There was so much to do, but she appeared to be so calm and organised. At the end of the two-week placement I had decided that I wanted to be a chef.
When I told my mother, she laughed and told me that if I was serious, I should go and get a job at The Ritz Hotel. Looking back, I think she was joking, but the next day, off I went to Green Park, knocked on the kitchen door and asked if I could have a job.
They told me to come in for a trial, and after a while I was offered an apprenticeship. I couldn't believe my luck.
After two years at The Ritz, it was time to move on. I heard about a position at Gleneagles Hotel, in Scotland. I called them up and they offered me the job.
I was 21, and still living at home. I felt I needed to break away. Scotland seemed like the perfect opportunity to leave the distractions of London behind, get my head down, and concentrate on learning to cook.
My friends were shocked when I told them, and said I'd be back in a month. In fact, I stayed for more than a year.
At the hotel, I was a commis chef - basically an assistant who prepares the food and makes pastry.
In that year I learned a lot about cooking and a huge amount about myself.
I had lived in London all my life. I didn't know anyone in Scotland, and at first it was quite lonely. Things were made even harder by the fact that I could barely understand the Scottish accent. I had to start from scratch, but after a while I got into the swing of things.
In 1992, I heard that there were jobs going with chef John Burton Race, at his two-Michelin-starred restaurant in Reading. Once again, I packed my bags and literally turned up on their doorstep.
Getting a Michelin star is no mean feat, and two is something very special. John's kitchen was run with military precision and there was no room for error.
If you did something incorrectly, he would make you throw it away and start again. If you were slow, he would tear a strip off you in front of everyone. I learned very quickly to never make mistakes.
If I hadn't been determined to make a success of my career I think it would have been then that I threw in the towel. Instead, as always, I kept my head down, and worked hard.
Eventually, John sent me to train with Raymond Blanc at his two-Michelin-starred restaurant in Oxfordshire, and then to Ledoyen in Paris. With that sort of experience under my belt, the world was my oyster.
After working with such elaborate French recipes, I decided to go back to London and work for Richard Corrigan at Lindsay House in Soho.
His was a more natural, rustic way of cooking, using offal, pigs' trotters, and marrow - ingredients seen by many as " secondclass" foods.
His no-waste approach to food reminded me of my mother's cooking and I would say that it was Richard who has most influenced my own style.
Having worked in some of the top kitchens in the country - and under some of the top chefs - in 2003, I felt I was ready to take the reins and become a head chef in my own right.
At Lola's, I'm in at 8 o'clock every morning to start the stocks and sauces, and I don't leave until past midnight. I never take my eye off the ball - whether that be refining the menu, or making sure the staff and décor are up to scratch.
We get quite a few celebrities through the doors. People tell me "so-and-so's in tonight" but the names mean nothing to me. I'm generally too busy to worry about such things.
At the moment, I don't have much of a life outside of work, but my fiancée Tracy is very supportive. We met six years ago, and have two daughters, Allyiah, who is three, and Analise who was born last year.
Over the years, my enthusiasm for food has rubbed off on Tracy. She now does virtually all the cooking at home. I still go home for family meals whenever I get the chance and my mother still doesn't let me in the kitchen.
I've eaten the finest foods, in the most expensive restaurants in the world, but nothing can beat a home-cooked meal with my family.
My parents came to sample my cooking a few years ago. They rarely go out to eat, and I think they were slightly overwhelmed by all the pampering. They were also incredibly proud of what I'd achieved.
If you ask me the secret of my success, I would have to say that it's down to just very hard work.
Interview by Barney Calman
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