At secondary school I was the only boy in my year to take Cookery as a practical study subject. Woodwork and Metalwork were definitely not my thing and although I enjoyed art lessons and pottery particularly, given the option of only one practical subject at ‘O’ Level, it had to be cookery for me. I knew I was unusual amongst my male peers for being interested in cooking and, thinking about it now, I was doubtless bullied in part because of it, but when pushed to choose I didn’t think twice.

Lessons took place in a huge, high-ceilinged room in a new wing built in the 1970’s. Linoleum floored in a shade of petrol blue, banks of double-sided counters, each accommodating two students per side and each with a cooker set into it, were arranged perpendicular to the exterior wall. Plate glass windows running the length of the room offered an expansive view onto the sports field and the suburban landscape beyond. One day in 1980 we saw the smoke rising from Alexandra Palace as it burned.