Writing’s a passion that’s followed me faithfully since I was a small child. I’ve been far less faithful to it — for years chasing dreams of importance and financial ego into lonely towers of high finance. Even then, writing crept furtively onto backs of envelopes and escaped when it could, in rare moments of free-flowing fingers, over reams of paper. In 2004, after years of a numbed existence, I shattered into surrender and finally became teachable to a new way of life And so, with the years increasing in joy and peace, writing has tiptoed in – slowly, steadily, lovingly and with continual challenge.
Conversely, cooking’s been a lifelong source of comfort, and during all moments of darkness and light I’ve chopped, braised, steamed and baked. As a child, our family spent languid summers in the hills just outside Tuscany, and it was there that I discovered the loving connections that form during groans of delight for a perfectly flaky pastry or meltingly slow-cooked lamb. Later on, I unearthed a passion for seasonal, fresh produce, which continues in earnest to this day. Now I have a child of my own, I’m determined to show him all the myriad pleasures that good food, and relationships formed over shared meals with those we come to love, can bring.
My school art teachers ignored me for the most part, and I may be the only person in the world who managed to successively fail school art exams. I seem to be a natural unartist, leading to a quandary with the obligatory food-blog photography. In an attempt to honour this blog, I bought the most expensive second hand camera I could afford — a Nikon D5100, which perches, bird-like, on its entirely inexpensive tripod. Using natural light and a 50mm lens works for me, which is a good thing as it’s the only lens and light I have. I work incredibly hard at my photography and hope that if any of my school art teachers were to find this blog, the unartistic child would be almost unrecognisable.
What about some The Imperfect Kitchen social media? You’ll often find stuff here that doesn’t make the blog, and can therefore claim to be a part of the cognoscenti.
And if you want to contact me for any questions about The Imperfect Kitchen, or just want to get in touch, I’d love to hear from you.