A SLICE OF MY LIFE
BACK TO MY ROOTS
My father was a fruit and vegetable merchant in Lancashire and hated waste. Everything got eaten, and he never brought home more from the warehouse than we needed. Back then, meat and veg were cooked to death: parsnips were a killer; sprouts I struggled with. My mum was good at baking – apple pies for the freezer, a couple of victoria sponges. I would be there with her in the kitchen, rolling pastry and lining tins. Great fun.