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berthed next to it was another boat, Idlewood. One night, I got talking to one of its deckhands, and he let me know that they were looking for a chef, too.
    ‘Our captain’s called Ginger Steve,’ he said.
    I met up with Ginger Steve two days later, and he told me that he worked for a high-profile couple, but that he couldn’t tell me who they were, which meant that the owners had to beseriously rich. So, forty hours later, I’m sailing off into the sunset on this beautiful mega-yacht.
    It was amazing. The kitchen was massive for a boat. There were twenty-two crew members, and I was earning about $4,000 per month, which is a fortune. And bear in mind that I was spending no money. I didn’t even have to cook for the crew. My assistant did that.
    It turned out that the boat was owned by Reg Grundy and his wife, Joy Chambers. Reg is one of Australia’s most famous media bosses. He founded the Grundy Organisation, which makes television shows like Young Doctors and, most famously of all, Neighbours. Joy is a novelist and an actress. They were charming, the perfect employers, and I loved them to bits. I’m still in touch with them. They came to my restaurant Aubergine when it opened. They came to my wedding and they send my children presents.
    After the summer season, I’d saved about £15,000, which seemed like a fortune, and I felt fantastic. But I was dying to get back to London and use everything I had learned to open my own restaurant. Then I was asked if I would travel with the boat across the Atlantic to the Caribbean. Then the Grundys would pay for me to fly back to Europe. When would I get the chance to do something like that ever again? Iwas torn between wanting to pursue my dream back in London or have one last adventure – so I agreed.
    Cooking for the Grundys helped me to develop my style even further, strange as that may sound. They adored fine dining, but they were also health-conscious. So breakfast was stewed fruit, and dinner was light – no cream, no butter, even if there were important guests around the table. For me, it was great. I was being paid very well indeed to evolve my own culinary style. You can see traces of my time on the Idlewood in the way I cook now.
    I had so much respect for Reg. We got on like a house on fire. He was so loyal to his staff, some of whom had worked for him for thirty-five years. He taught me the importance of looking after people long before I opened the doors of my own restaurant.
    But I never let myself forget that this, for me, was just another leg in my journey. And I could feel myself getting closer to achieving my goal every day. I could almost SMELL that restaurant of mine. It was in my sights. I just had to reach out and grab it with both hands.

Chapter Six
A Room of My Own
    I got a call from Pierre Koffmann, the chef and owner of a restaurant in Chelsea with three Michelin stars. His head chef had just walked out, and he wanted to know if I was interested in the job. Of course I said yes, even though what I was really after was a place of my own. At the time, that restaurant was the envy of every chef in London. That included my ‘old friend’ Marco, who was often on the phone pestering me to see him. One Friday night, I finally agreed.
    Marco was going great guns at his restaurant, Harvey’s , and he was involved in another restaurant called The Canteen , where he’d installed my old flatmate Stephen Terry as chef. Why did I agree to meet him? That’s simple. He held out the biggest bait of all.
    ‘How do you fancy your own restaurant?’ he said.
    I met him at The Canteen , and we jumped in a cab. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, but eventually we wound up in Park Walk. Then we walked into this restaurant. It was all galvanised steel and black paint.
    Marco said, ‘All this can be yours. My other partner at The Canteen – he owns it. It’s losing ten grand a week.’
    The following week, Marco told me that I could buy 25 per cent of the