Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all - Harriet Van Horne
I am a British-born chef based in Prague, Czech Republic. I have been a passionate cook for most of my life but my career as a chef began two decades ago when I was seeking for a more fulfilling vocation. Serendipity led me to the beautiful city of Prague which was at the time a gastronomic desert. I got my start running a café at the British Council serving fresh, homemade meals and baked goods. Over the years I have honed my skills as a chef and all that it entails; working in restaurants as well as a personal chef, caterer and instructor.
My passion for food was formed during my eclectic Irish-Asian childhood. I loved them all: from the rich pound cakes still warm from the oven, the multi-layered rotis with spicy dhal curry from the street vendor for breakfast, the sun-drenched homegrown tomatoes with a sprinkling of salt, the doorstep of white bread slathered with treacly sweet coconut jam, the morsels of charred, smoky satay from the night market, ripe buttery smooth avocados with a squirt of lime eaten with a teaspoon, even to the first taste of chillis on my lips administered by an aunt as an Asian equivalent to washing a child's mouth with soap due to my proclivity for using the word “bloody". Every chance I could get I would escape to the kitchen to touch, smell, taste and watch, and eventually when I was high enough to reach the hob, to cook – I not only fell in love but found my creative expression and have entered into it with abandon ever since.
My passion for food was formed during my eclectic Irish-Asian childhood. I loved them all: from the rich pound cakes still warm from the oven, the multi-layered rotis with spicy dhal curry from the street vendor for breakfast, the sun-drenched homegrown tomatoes with a sprinkling of salt, the doorstep of white bread slathered with treacly sweet coconut jam, the morsels of charred, smoky satay from the night market, ripe buttery smooth avocados with a squirt of lime eaten with a teaspoon, even to the first taste of chillis on my lips administered by an aunt as an Asian equivalent to washing a child's mouth with soap due to my proclivity for using the word “bloody". Every chance I could get I would escape to the kitchen to touch, smell, taste and watch, and eventually when I was high enough to reach the hob, to cook – I not only fell in love but found my creative expression and have entered into it with abandon ever since.
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