“I watched, slack-jawed, as my new friend fried them”

Looking back, I probably had the idyllic farm childhood that many people might dream of. Pulling up carrots and radishes to eat after they’d had a quick wash under the tap in the yard. Spending summer holidays harvesting spuds with my army of cousins. Learning when crops were ripe, enjoying the changing seasons (although not winter, in a Lancashire farmhouse with no central heating. But, still…).

None of this frontline access to food and farming meant that I could actually cook. All of that got left to my mum, who slaved over the hot AGA day in, day out.

And so, I’d say my food lightbulb moment came embarrassingly late. Up until the age of 19, I’d only ever eaten courgettes boiled. But in my new university kitchen, I watched, slack-jawed, as my new friend Em fried them. Can you imagine? She FRIED them in butter, added them to pasta, then covered them in more butter, pepper and parmesan. It was still on the spectrum of student food but it was also the moment when I realised there was much, much more to life than boiled courgettes.

From that moment I realised I needed to, wanted to and was going to learn to cook for myself.