Origins of Anthony Demetre

Childhood trips to Navy Days at Portland Harbour had inspired Anthony Demetre to join the navy, but when a rugby injury put paid to those plans, he found solace in the world of restaurants. With no formal training, to get his first shift, he simply knocked on the door of the restaurant at the local train station. The chef that answered? Shaun Hill

Avolemono

As children we spent a lot of time with my Greek grandparents. My grandmother was a phenomenal cook and I normally found myself in the kitchen. We had big traditional Greek Sunday lunches with six or seven courses over a long afternoon. She’d always do avgolemono (egg and lemon soup), which the Greeks also use as a sauce. Nan made it with a chicken base, but it’s so hard to get right as it can curdle. There’d be so much food: skordalia (garlicky potato dip), macaroni, a slow-cooked meat dish or stifado, and an orange blossom water cake for dessert.

Gary Rhodes

I was never one for fancy cooking. I loved French bourgeois cooking, and wanted to experience that, but also wanted to learn about British food; I worked with Gary before he was known really in Taunton (at the Castle Hotel). I learnt how to make custard tart with him, and even now it never goes off my menu – it’s become a bit of a signature dish. I’ve got a real soft spot for anything with dairy in it.

Turnips

I did some unpaid work at La Tante Claire with Pierre Koffmann and he was hugely inspirational, but the last chef I worked for was Bruno Loubet, who was like a young version of him. Seasonality was paramount and it was all about bags of flavour, forgotten cuts of meat, underused vegetables such as Swiss chard, Jerusalem artichokes and cavalo nero, and unsung heroes like turnips.

Auvergne, France

I’ve always driven to my holidays, so they start the moment you load up the car and leave. Even before Fred and I had kids, we’d drive to Paris, then head to Auvergne to seek out small auberges. We go to a great one run by an English guy called Harry Lester, called Le Saint Eutrope in Clermont-Ferrand, and then on to Auberge de Chassignolles. It’s cheap as chips – these great cooks do a fixed menu for £23.

Honey

I’ve become so obsessed with bees that I’ve become a beekeeper. We used to get honey from our landlord at Wild Honey, who had hives at his house in the country, but now we’ve got four of our own on the roof of the restaurant and we use the honey for our ice cream, which we serve with a frame out of the hive. We use a honey glaze with wild duck, and also pink peppercorn and honey on smoked eel; it goes so well with the smokiness and fattiness of eel.

Vermouth

I enjoy cycling and I love doing mountain climbs in Europe. I always discover these wonderful Alpine herbs, which they use to make different types of vermouth. Every area has its own vermouth: Savoie, Auvergne, Salas. It’s also part of cycling to stop off for coffee and cake or a plat du jour and a carafe, so I wanted to bring it all together – that’s why I opened Vermuteria with my dear friend Michael Sodeau.

Tripe

My grandmother used to do lamb’s tripe – not tripe and onions, but tripe with wild celery leaves, oregano, tomatoes, white wine. I remember a couple of my aunts turning their noses up at it, but it was absolutely delicious. At Arbutus we did pied et paquets (literally, ‘feet and packets’), which was lamb trotters, cooked and stripped, spread on crostini and served with lamb shoulder wrapped in tripe in a stew. Marina O’Loughlin waxed lyrical about it, but it was a bugger of a dish to prepare.

Soho

I loved working in Soho; there was so much energy. It’s always been sordid, but in the early Nineties it was very edgy – Archer Street was mugger’s alley back then. But chefs were rock and roll, they’d finish at 1am and go for a drink and something to eat. And it was a magnet for artists, actors and musicians: Francis Bacon, Malcolm McLaren, Siouxsie and the Banshees. It was an area of London that never slept. I loved it.