After a decade of working with high powered chefs in glamorous restaurants, I left the ‘coal face’ to retrain as a journalist and write about the industry I love and have a deep passion for.
I cut my teeth on my local paper, landing the role of The Chiswick’s restaurant critic in the first week and never looked back. Eighteen months later, no longer able to survive on a local paper wage, I managed to talk my way into the role of senior hotels reporter at Caterer and Hotelkeeper.
Over the last five years I’ve worked my way up to content editor, in charge of all content in the magazine and news on the web. A great role – one of my dream jobs in fact – but alas not doable with two young children and no nanny!
The kids are Ellie (3) and Josh (10 months) – my new passions. But I’m the first to admit, I’m not an earth mother, being a mummy isn’t enough. I still love writing and my work and hospitality. Hence, the blog, hence the freelance. I have to do it to keep me sane. I love my kids, I’m better mum if I’m not around them all the time. I don’t like old women in the street who offer unsolicited advice when mine are screaming blue murder, but I do like the mums who rest a hand on your arm and say in a been-there-myself manner – “it’s awful I know, but it does get better, just keep going.”
Chiswick is my home, I grew up here, worked here and moved back to have children here. It’s a different place now to when I grew up, much richer, more elite, but the people are still (mostly) lovely and the community is the best. I just love it here, even my husband Paul, – a dyed-in-the-wool-north-Londoner – is now a convert. More than the people, there’s Kew, the River, Chiswick Park, Dukes Meadows, The Tabard, fistfulls of restaurants and Fullers – what more could you ask for?
I have notoriously terrible taste in music (think guilty pleasures) but great taste in food and not bad skills in the kitchen. I’m terrible at sport but love politics and singing, although I’d never get into XFactor. But my guiltiest pleasure of all (barring perhaps cold baked beans) is shite murder-mystery programmes on the telly – give me a cup of tea and Magnum or Murder she Wrote and i’m a happy woman.