Bright Lights, Big City

And so, I leave home!

I moved to Bristol, to go to university and study law. Weeks before leaving the Cotswolds I had so many people I knew well telling me I was ridiculous to study law, and that I was bound to be a chef. I laughed at them; I knew best. Or did I?

Leaving behind my beloved animals, (truly that was the worst part of Uni life) mum delivered me to halls. They were pretty awful. Not the google search I had imagined, balloon fiestas, suspension bridge and docks…. No! A fourteen-story dilapidated building divided up in to flats of 6. The kitchen was rubbish, the bed was like a camp bed my nanna used to have, it was a shock to the system. It was also not on campus, as I had chosen to live in the city centre. Having come from the idyllic Cotswolds, suddenly I was embroiled in the sound of sirens, drunks on the street, the beeping of an incessant pedestrian crossing, and the busses air brakes. What was I doing!?!?!?

My housemates were a mixed variety. 3 of them I never really got to know, they were Chinese and very much bonded as a three. Then there was Jess and Luke! I met them the day my mum dropped me off, and they ended up as my best friends at Uni. They made our life at Nelson House bearable. We had so much fun, I started not to notice the originally unbearable city sounds, the fact that our beds vibrated after 10pm became part of the joy of being the floor directly above a nightclub, friendships were growing.

One night I had said I would cook for the flat. They said yes, but as long as I did not cook any of my posh shit. We settled on pasta with pesto. I made the pesto of course, tossed it through the pasta, added some lightly toasted pine nuts, some of my mum’s homegrown tomatoes, fresh rocket, and parmesan shavings. Well, I will never forget how we laughed over the pasta, the pure disbelief that me a skint student had just served up pimped pasta and pesto.

The three of us had made friends with a few people on different floors, after all there were three flats on each of the fourteen floors. The last week before Christmas holidays, I hosted Christmas. I did the whole thing, turkey, and every trimming you could dream of. We had crackers, Christmas music, plenty of wine the whole shebang. Meanwhile of course I was studying too, but every day I found space in my day for food, for my passion.

Fail to prepare or prepare to fail ….

Having spent the most incredible 6 months in Switzerland, drinking far too much, skiing and putting my heart and soul on a plate. I was headed back to the UK.

While I was away, I had been offered a place at 4 universities, everything was getting far too grown up for my liking. I came back to my parents in the Cotswolds, and went about checking out cities for my upcoming uni placement! I decided on Bristol, not too far from home, I could still pop back at weekends, see my animals and family of course. But, now with the certainty of heading off to uni to study law, it was time to save and save some more. Back to a kitchen I go. This time, working in a rural gastro pub.

It was back breaking work, the hours were long, I was the only girl surrounded by middle aged men with the atypical chef attitude. The jokes were crude, the language vulgar, but I learnt so much!! It made me what I am today, completely anal about a tidy workspace (just ask my partner he is not allowed in the kitchen) organised, efficient, focused, and vocal. Mise en place is everything or brace yourself for an appalling service. Fresh and seasonal was at the very heart of the menu. The menu changed daily, we picked from the garden, met the local game keeper for the venison and rabbit, I loved all of it. Random lessons I learnt there include being given a whole deer (it arrived in the boot of a car) and being taught how butcher it… what a skill! I think it was originally a bit of a test to see if I was going to become all girly and squeamish, absolutely not! If you can butcher a deer … you can butcher almost anything, so it was a great day and I remember it well 13 years on!

In the summer we served a banging ploughman’s, with chicken liver parfait (that I had probably made the day before) roasted ham, all sorts of local fabulous cheeses, homemade pickles, jams, breads, salad …. They were the bane of my summer in 2007! On a busy summers day I would make 30 plus an hour and they were fussy, prepped last minute and if you feel behind with one that was your whole service out of sync. I was knackered daily, on split shift I would use my break to ride my mare who was only a mile from the pub, and never be home until the kitchen was deep cleaned at 10pm everyday. It was bloody hard work, but I really did learn so much. I still know the head chef very well, and we chat often (about food mainly). Ill always have a great respect for what he taught me, as without my time here, my education in a professional kitchen, I would not have had a lot of my success.

Where it all began

It all started with a pipe dream … an ambition to write and publish a best selling cook book. Now that hasn’t happened yet, but we are on our way. I am Lottie, and I started this business in my tiny kitchen at the beginning of 2020, the year we cannot explain. But the story starts a long way before that.

As a child I grew up on a farm with my family. Most relevant to this is my Mum, she’s an excellent cook. I spent weekends with my Nana cooking all sorts for the poor gardener, who would always tell me it was the best cake he had ever eaten. The cakes turned in to quiche, and my repertoire grew. Mum always fed us the best food, we were totally spoilt (and I do not mean with junk food). There was not a nugget in sight. She hosted fabulous dinner parties, and spent the day cooking up a storm, and I was entranced. Really that has not changed, she is still a fabulous cook, and still I call her now for advice when something does not quite work. And now I am a guest at the dinner parties, even if quite often I am roped in to help with the cooking these days.

I spent my youth at great schools, all with excellent home economics. My favourite subject. Immensely proud of my 100% practical GCSE, shame about the coursework. During sixth form I was a day girl and would always find time to be creating some form of baked masterpiece over the weekend. I even hosted my first dinner party when I was 17. Parents out for the night, brand new driving licence in my purse and what do I do … throw a dinner party!

Having completed A-levels I set off to Switzerland, Verbier specifically. I got my first proper cooking job! Eeek! I was given a chalet that slept 6 guests to look after, feed them mainly, also clean (I still hate changing bed sheets)! Cooked breakfast, afternoon tea and a four-course dinner! I was in heaven. Even better, I was paid to do it, skied in my spare time, and lived in the heavenly setting that is Verbier. I look back on this as one of the happiest times of my life.

Week two in Verbier … I get promoted! Super excited, I now have a 16 man chalet, an assistant and 2 cleaners. It was the flagship chalet for the brand, and it was epic! Sauna, Hot Tub set into the snow, beautifully decorated including my marble kitchen!

I literally just had to cook. The budget was vast, the guests were filthy rich, the wine flowed, and I loved every second! If I had not fallen in love with food and cooking before I certainly had now!