The Repair Shop presenter on school dinners, seaside eating competitions and food that heals the soul
I call my real “father” TMWCTMB – “The Man Who Contributed Towards My Birth”. He didn’t come into my life until I was 45 and I discovered all the half-brothers and half-sisters [25 in total] he’d had with other women. But we stayed with my uncle when I was young. We’d gone into a refuge after I was born, but I don’t remember that. My earliest memories are of being at the house of a friend in Stoke Newington. He lived next door to a Jewish family who had a plum tree that leaned over the back garden and dropped plums, which we ate. I said: “We should knock on the door and ask to stand on the wall and take plums off the tree too.” The neighbour didn’t reply but nodded yes at us ruffians and looked quite fatherly and proud standing at his french windows.
My mother put me into a competition in Clacton-on-Sea in which people attempted to be the quickest eater of 100 Jacob’s Cream Crackers with no water allowed. I had half a packet before spitting dust. It took all the moisture out of my body.
