Nigel slater who is

A long-standing collaboration Although he writes alone, Nigel develops his recipes, documentaries and television series with his long-standing collaborator James Thompson. James creates, directs and produces their television programmes and was Food Director of the stage production of Toast. He is co-founder and Executive Director of Sloe Films and has set up The Great Oven, an intiative supporting sustainable food relief in refugee camps, war-torn communities and inner cities in crisis.

Nigel is an honorary Master of Letters MLitt. He is active on both Instagram and Twitter. Author, diarist, programme maker and cook, he remains very much an amateur in the kitchen.

Nigel is not and never has been a professional chef. His food is simple, understated, handcrafted home cooking. Just like I won't do photo sessions with a red pepper in one hand and a frying pan in the other, or all that ready steady puke, stuff. And I don't do interviews, or at least I have done two, including this one. I hated the first one, by the way. Despite all this - somewhat arch - attempt at anonymity, he can still hardly walk down the road to Islington without someone congratulating him on his rarebit or sharing a secret about stuffing.

His stack of fan mail very occasionally includes a letter detailing disaster. I wonder if he thinks his mailbag is a sign that the English are genuinely becoming more emotional about food. The French or Italians think nothing of going to a patisserie and buying a pudding for a dinner party or a ready-made salad, but here we have to make every thing ourselves, every last sodding cake.

I still think we are using food as a class thing, to put on a show, rather than because we love it. Another example of this tendency, he believes, is the gastro pub.

If I like it I write about it. It is this singular passion that he conveys so apparently effortlessly. In fact I spend days and days over my column. My only rule is that I always have Fridays off. I'm very strict about it, because I love cooking on Sundays.

It's the best day, no buggerance, no phone calls. I love the cooking, I love the writing and I love the fact that I do it all myself. I even do the washing up. And not all the cookery world could say the same. If you have a restaurant and a column and you do television then you are not doing it all yourself, no way. But the truth is, I wake up every morning saying thank you that I can do this. Some of that joy, I suggest is already there in the photograph of Slater as a boy on the front of his book.

I found the cover for the book when my aunt died and I was going through her stuff and this picture fell out. It's of me and Mum and Dad after a meal at a hotel in Bournemouth. My Mum is still looking quite healthy, my Dad looking rather brooding and scary, so much so that we had to fade him out a bit, and then there is me in the middle of them.

Slater was captured perfectly then as he has often felt himself since: with a private grin and an empty plate. Even the most feted of intellectuals cannot cook if they refuse to apply basic common sense. Baking a loaf of bread will change the way you think about food.

There is something simple, pure and frugal about a home-made loaf, and the feel-good factor is better than a trip to the gym. I still meet men who never, ever cook. They think it's their wife's job. They are living in the dark ages. There is no light so perfect as that which shines from an open fridge door at 2am.

Sometimes I think 'fuck it' and just make myself a bowl of plain steamed rice. Most chefs prefer their mum's cooking to the bells and whistles stuff they send out to their customers. Nigel Slater. While other boys in his class were reading Shoot! Nigel subscribed to Cordon Bleu magazine.

A loveless childhood drove Nigel Slater, The Observer's food writer, to seek affection elsewhere - in the kitchen. I am a great believer in all schools of moderation. Anything, for now, includes planning his annual month-long early-spring trip to Japan. One thing is a constant, though. Though little can compare with making someone something nice to eat. Warm the 3 tablespoons of oil in your largest frying pan, place the fennel in the pan in a single layer, then season lightly and cook until the fennel is light gold on the underside.

Turn each piece over and continue cooking until soft and translucent. Let the cheese toast and turn patchily gold. Put the frozen peas in a colander and run them under the cold tap for a few minutes till they have defrosted. Let them drain. Whizz the peas, basil and mint leaves and the oil in a food processor till almost smooth — a slightly rough texture is good — then spoon over the cheese and fennel and serve.

If you have a few fennel fronds, add them at the very end. Halve the cherry tomatoes, peel and thinly slice the garlic, and cut the chilli into very thin rounds. Put the tomatoes, garlic and chilli into a shallow roasting tin, then toss with the groundnut oil.

Let the tomatoes cook under the grill till some of the skins have blackened. Bring a deep pan of water to the boil and salt it generously.

Lower the noodles into the water and let them boil for three or four minutes, or according to the instructions on the packet.

Drain the noodles as soon as they are tender. Breakfast hash by Nigel Slater. Spaghetti with roasted rib ragu by Nigel Slater. Shredded duck with plums and chilli flatbread by Nigel Slater. Roast pork belly with apple bread sauce and rib gravy by Nigel Slater. Lancashire hotpot by Nigel Slater. Greengrocers' hot pot by Nigel Slater.

Beef cheek and butternut broth in sourdough by Nigel Slater. See all Nigel Slater recipes Programmes with Nigel Slater. Nigel and Adam's Farm Kitchen.