What does cooking mean to you?
Cooking, to me, is one of the most practical and joyful ways we can care for ourselves and for the people around us. It is nourishment, of course, but it is also creativity, memory, rhythm and connection. Some of the happiest moments of my life have taken place around a kitchen table: a pot bubbling away on the hob, someone opening a bottle of wine, children pinching something from a serving platter before it reaches the table, or friends lingering long after the plates have been cleared.
I trained and worked as a chef, so I have always loved the discipline and excitement of food. But the cooking that means the most to me now is often the simplest: making soup from garden vegetables, baking a loaf for the weekend, preparing a chicken traybake when everyone is hungry, or turning a few leftovers into something delicious. It is about making the everyday feel special without making it complicated.
Cooking also connects me to the seasons. It encourages you to notice what is growing, what is plentiful and what your body might need at a particular time of year. It grounds you in the present. When you are chopping, stirring, tasting and sharing, there is very little room to be distracted. For me, cooking is an act of generosity — and a lovely reminder that home can be made, again and again, through food.
How much can good food impact both body and mind?
Good food has an enormous impact on both body and mind, although I think it is important to approach it with pleasure rather than fear. Food should give us energy, nourishment and the building blocks we need to feel well, but it should also bring comfort, satisfaction and enjoyment. A truly good meal is not simply about counting ingredients or chasing perfection; it is about balance, colour, flavour and the feeling it creates.
When we cook with fresh, seasonal ingredients — plenty of vegetables, good fats, pulses, whole grains, herbs, fish, eggs and thoughtfully sourced meat — we naturally tend to eat in a way that feels more sustaining. A bowl of soup with proper stock, vegetables and beans; roast chicken with greens and potatoes; or a colourful salad with grains, herbs and a punchy dressing can be simple, affordable and deeply satisfying.
The mental side is just as important. Cooking can be wonderfully grounding. It gives your hands something to do and draws you away from screens, worries and rushing. Sitting down to eat, ideally with other people, creates a pause in the day. Sharing a meal encourages conversation and belonging. Even the smallest ritual — lighting a candle, laying the table, serving food properly — can change how a meal feels. Good food is not only fuel; it is one of life’s most accessible daily pleasures.
What does it mean to share your food with people?
For me, the most memorable meals are rarely about what was served. They are about the people, the stories, the laughter and that lovely sense of time slowing down. Food gives us a reason to gather. It takes the pressure off conversation because there is always something to pass, pour, taste or talk about. A shared meal can mark a celebration, comfort someone after a difficult time, welcome a new friend, or simply turn an ordinary Tuesday evening into something warmer.
I also love the generosity of putting dishes in the middle of the table and letting everyone help themselves. It is relaxed, abundant and encourages people to settle in. There is something very special about food that has been cooked with someone else in mind: remembering a friend loves lemony puddings, making extra roast potatoes because your family adore them, or sending someone home with leftovers. Sharing food is not about impressing people. It is about making them feel cared for, included and at ease.
One ingredient you wish everyone used more and why?
If I could encourage everyone to use one ingredient more often, it would be fresh herbs. They are one of the easiest ways to make everyday food taste brighter, more generous and more exciting, yet they are often treated as a garnish rather than a proper ingredient. A handful of parsley, mint, basil, dill, coriander, chives or tarragon can completely transform a dish.
Herbs bring freshness and character without requiring much effort. They can lift a simple tray of roast vegetables, make a salad feel more alive, cut through the richness of a stew, add fragrance to fish, or turn plain yoghurt into a delicious sauce. A bowl of couscous or rice becomes much more interesting with chopped herbs, lemon zest and good olive oil. The same is true of soups, omelettes, pasta, dressings and sandwiches.
I particularly love growing herbs because they are so rewarding. You do not need a large garden: a sunny windowsill, doorstep pot or small raised bed can provide mint, rosemary, thyme, parsley and chives for much of the year. Having herbs close at hand also changes the way you cook. You become more instinctive, adding a few leaves here and there as you taste.
My advice is to use herbs generously. Think of them almost as a leafy vegetable rather than a final flourish. They bring colour, flavour and a wonderful sense of freshness to the table.
What is one simple cooking tip that can elevate any meal?
My simplest tip is to taste as you cook — and season in layers rather than waiting until the end. It sounds obvious, but it is the difference between food that is merely fine and food that tastes full of life. Seasoning is not just about adding salt. It is about creating balance: salt for depth, acidity for brightness, sweetness when something needs rounding out, heat for warmth, and good fat for richness and flavour.
Start by seasoning onions, vegetables or meat as they cook. Taste a sauce before you serve it. If something tastes a little flat, do not immediately add more salt. It may need a squeeze of lemon, a splash of vinegar, a spoonful of yoghurt, a little chilli, fresh herbs or a drizzle of really good olive oil. These small adjustments can make a remarkable difference. Acidity is especially useful. Lemon juice, cider vinegar, sherry vinegar or a little pickle brine can wake up soups, stews, dressings, roasted vegetables, fish and even creamy dishes. It brings contrast and makes all the other flavours clearer.
I also believe presentation matters, but not in a fussy way. Finish a dish with something fresh: herbs, zest, toasted nuts, a spoonful of crème fraîche, crunchy breadcrumbs or a final drizzle of olive oil. It adds texture, colour and generosity.
The key is to cook with your senses. Taste, trust yourself and make the final small adjustments that make a meal sing.
