Food has been a constant thread running through my life — from studio kitchens and television sets to my own family table at home.
For years, food was my work. Early starts, busy studios, live television, and plates of food that had to look perfect under bright lights. I loved the buzz, the creativity, and the energy of it all. But when food is your job, it can sometimes lose its simplicity.
These days, it’s different — and perhaps even more special.
At Christmas, with grown-up children and grandchildren gathered around the table, I’m reminded why food mattered to me in the first place. It’s never just about what’s on the plate. It’s about conversation, laughter, shared memories, and the comfort of familiar rituals. It’s about passing dishes around, hearing stories repeated (and embellished), and watching new traditions quietly take shape.
Cooking now feels freer. There’s less pressure and more pleasure. I’m not chasing perfection — I’m creating moments. Food brings us together, grounds us, and marks time in the most human way.
From studio kitchens to family tables, food continues to bring me joy — not because of how it looks, but because of how it makes us feel connected.
And that, to me, is what really matters.
