I was impressed from the moment I met him. It was like the revelation of something I wanted to be like. How I wanted to be. How I wanted to cook. I could see it as he moved around the kitchen. Even with my newbie eye. How he talked about food and how he described doing things. When I read the menu, it made me wonder what it tasted like because it sounded interesting. It was genius, it hooked me. It made me want to make it to see how it was done. Even better, I knew I was going to be taught how to do it, because it was obviously tried and tested. People had paid money for it before.
His name was on the menu. There was a biography. There was status. Rosettes. Stars. I was working with him. I hadn’t arrived yet but I was surely on the path. My journey had started and I was destined for greatness. He asked me what I thought, did I have any ideas. What can I do for the early bird menu? Give me a cheap main course, chef. Fucking hell, I was valued. He told me we would get a rosette by December. An award!
It didn't take long to realise it was smoke and mirrors and he was blagging it. He was a mimic. I had seen this food before. New British Classics, that’s where. In his flat as I looked through his cookery book collection. His inspiration. His cookery soul. While we ate another tube of Pringles after the pub. Time flies. Fifteen years since he went to London to work with the big boys. To learn his craft. How to cook meat. Fish. Run the sauce section. I'd heard all about it. It was starting to come around again just slightly different to how it was before. His bolt had been shot.
Flicking through, I was laughing but it wasn’t funny, not to me. I wanted to learn new things, I wanted to do something modern and fresh. But as I progressed through the pages I was saying it. Done. Done. And that one. Done. Done. I knew what would happen, I would have to go elsewhere. I want to learn new things. Where had the creativity gone? Was it ever there? Are we all just destined to repeat what has gone before? Had it all been done before? I was told it had but I was a non-believer. It can't be that way. I was the next wave coming through and I'll use my machete to chop through the rainforest.
He valued the training with him. He was proud of it. And he had achieved something then and since. A star with Gary. Two rosettes with Gary’s food. It was time to stand on his own two feet. “Cut the apron strings!" I wanted to shout. "Don’t be a fucking dinosaur!” would have been my next cluster bomb. But the past was stinking up the place like a corpse. Even Gary Rhodes doesn’t do this anymore. Even he left it behind. New ground. New growth. This was a drone who knew how to reproduce and had been good at it. Very good. Trained. Eat, sleep, cook, Repeat.......