Bread & Milk naomi devlin

You might recognise my friend and colleague Steve Lamb from the River Cottage TV series, where he provided the northern charm and cheekiness that made him a perfect foil for laid back Gill Meller and earnest Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. He’s written River Cottage handbooks, hosted stages at festivals and taught legions of students to cure and smoke meat and fish and make simple cheeses. He’s at his happiest with his beautiful family around him, camping their way through the summer months with a menagerie of different animals in tow. He gives a good hug and he’ll always remember to ask about the things that matter to you, because under all that banter, he’s an absolute sweetheart. He makes me laugh - a lot - and you can’t ask for more than that.

JP McMahon may well be the least starry Michelin starred chef I have ever met. He’s warm, chatty and down to earth, with a delightful sense of the ridiculous and a tendency to minimise his many achievements. In fact you could be fooled into thinking it’s simply his irrepressible energy that carries everything along, but JP is thoughtful, learned and delicate when he needs to be. He draws an incredible calibre of speakers to his Food On The Edge festival each year, has written a wonderful book on Irish food and even found time to study for a PhD. His Galway restaurants range from freshly baked pastries and coffee at Tartare and tapas at Cava to more curated plates at Aniar (meaning, ‘from the west’). What ties them all together is a focus on supporting and celebrating what is local. It’s what all restaurants could and probably should do to help preserve the uniqueness of the place they are in. The pandemic has hit restaurateurs hard, but particularly so in Ireland where sanctions have remained longer than in the UK. I hope that JP can hang on in there, because we need more of his passion and compassion to help us see what is wonderful around us.

Tim Hayward is a big warm bear of a man with a wicked sense of humour, an aversion to ‘woo woo’ and a muscular writing style that belies his soft underbelly. He’s a food critic, regular on radio programs such as The Kitchen Cabinet and author of many wonderful books (find links below). His latest book Loaf Story is a love story to bread told as a series of food memories, which you can enjoy even if you can’t actually eat the exact stuff referred to in the book. In fact, it may be quite cathartic if you have issues with gluten!

We explored the nature of authenticity in food, touched on preserving national food identity and how that makes liberals uncomfortable, admitting you may have food issues even when you thought you didn’t and Tim shared his experience of surviving a nasty brush with COVID 19. I could have talked to him all day, but alas we both had lives to return to.

A conversation about trusting your instinct and not comparing yourself to others. Kylee recreated her nan's scone recipe for a forthcoming book and the process taught her that sometimes the old ways are the best, to follow what her nan did rather than try to modernise the recipe. If it ain't broke then don't mess with the formula. Kylee's nan was a strong woman who raised eight children pretty much alone and Kylee talks about why her nan was her hero, not because she was a cuddly, mumsy nan, but because of her fortitude.

Mark Diacono takes us through some of his formative experiences, from drinking mishaps, to deciding to live with his Dad when his parents separated. We also talked about the joy of finding some thing you're good at, which you also happen to love and finally believing in yourself after a youth filled with crappy jobs.

Cliodhna Prendergast is a veritable polymath! A thoughtful writer, walker and sea swimmer, she also takes the most arrestingly beautiful photographs of both the food she cooks and the wild landscape in Connemara on the West coast of Ireland where she lives. Yet it is her approach to food that really excites me. Ballymaloe trained and formed in the crucible of running restaurants, the way she cooks feels completely natural and unassuming, allowing the simplicity of incredible produce to speak for itself. And when that produce is a freshly caught lobster or mushroom just plucked from the woods, it is the ultimate form of respect to do just enough to make the dish shine and no more. But don’t be deceived, that level of restraint means knowing exactly what you’re doing. It’s no accident! She was a joy to talk to and I’m just waiting for the day when I can jump into that clear Connemara sea with her.