Origins of Margot Henderson

A pioneer of London's ultra-hip, pared-back 1990s dining scene, Margot Henderson is co-patron and chef of the Rochelle Canteen in Shoreditch, where fresh, seasonal plates belie her childhood sugar cravings

Brown bread

My mother threw out all white sugar and flour after reading an American health book. We’d have cider vinegar and honey as a cordial drink, sunflower seeds at the cinema, and a treat would be homemade brown bread smothered with butter and honey. She made that bread every night and we probably whinged about it but it was so warming and loving. I still make it now.

Sugar

Because it wasn’t allowed, my sister and I craved sweet things, so we’d go to our neighbours with Tupperware and ask them for biscuits. One day I was so desperate that I decided to make ginger crunch, and that got me hooked on all biscuity things forever.

Snails

I studied French at school when I was about ten and we had to bring in garden snails. We drowned them, washed them and fried them up in garlic breadcrumbs. I came home and told Mum that snails were the best and started cooking them all the time at home – people gave me snails for my birthday. We'd also go to old-school French places where they'd serve frogs' legs, which was wild for New Zealand – that's when I got the bug for restaurants.

New Zealand

There's no real New Zealand cuisine. I mean, everyone ate leg of lamb and we had a lot of offal, but there's also a Polynesian influence. My mum used to teach yoga to women from Tokelau [three atolls off New Zealand] and they’d come to our house and prepare this amazing raw fish dish with coconut. It was beautiful and the way they made it was so soothing.

Kiwis

New Zealand fruit is incredible. You'd walk home from school and pick a kiwi fruit off the tree. They're hairier, smaller and sweeter there, and amazing for making ice cream. I love tamarillos, too. After school Mum would cut one in half and we'd eat it raw.

Rabbit

We never cooked rabbit in New Zealand because we thought they all had myxomatosis but I just love it now; it's such a lovely meat. It's got a simple, clean taste that just takes on ingredients around it. It's surprisingly comforting – especially in a gentle broth.

The River Café

When I could afford to get there, the River Café was a big influence. I was always discovering incredible ingredients, as they were bringing all this different Italian produce before everyone else. You walk in and feel on top of the world: it's everything, from the steel counters to the way they pour a Negroni.

The Eagle

An English pub wasn't where you ate, it was where you had a bad G&T and a decent pint. But The Eagle changed everything. It had a really great bar, great wine and, when the food arrived, it was delicious. They were doing 100 covers for lunch and there were only two cooking. It was the first gastropub.

Simon Hopkinson

Cooking what was in season still felt like a new concept when I first went to Simon Hopkinson at Bibendum. We had a rabbit pie brought to the table by him. Elizabeth David, Francis Bacon and Barry Manilow were also in. Oh my gosh, I always wanted to work there but was too scared to apply. It was how a restaurant should look and what a menu should be. Simon is a god of restaurants.

Fergus

Even before I knew him, Fergus [Henderson] had a huge influence. I had been working in a few fancy places, where they boned everything and just stuffed it. But I went to a pop-up he did in Covent Garden – it must have been about 1991, a year before we met – and I ordered pigeon and peas, and on my plate was just pigeon and peas. Just a whole pigeon, not boned. So simple. I thought 'this guy is wild'.