Mr Peng - Hunan: A Lifetime of Secrets from Mr Peng’s Chinese Kitchen

Wrinkled and bronzed with age, they tell of more than half a centurys worth of kitchen stories. The fingers dont quite fully extend because theyve become so familiar with the unyielding handles of the cleaver and the wok. Bleached white lines illustrate cuts that are so deep theyve become permanently tattooed on the skin. Hardened pads, built up over many years, are as much a necessity as a by-product. When I opened my restaurant Hunan in 1982, it was a seven-days-a-week operation. Today we are open for six.

This is probably the only thing that has changed in the past thirty years. Life hasnt slowed down at all. Even though I am close to seventy, Im still in the kitchen and in the restaurant every day doing prep, working the wok and talking to guests, many of whom have been regulars for years.

What makes Hunan unique is our approach to dining. I want everyone to try everything, and to try different things every time, so there is no menu. Instead, each guest is served a selection of small dishes, often more than 15 in one sitting. Each plate is a photograph for the palate, capturing memories of Taiwan, Sichuan, Guangdong and beyond. The food is simple but the flavours are infinite. It is about teasing out the best of the ingredients.

Subtle blends of chilli and Sichuan peppercorns push enormous pearly scallops to the edge while keeping them fresh and sweet, and the gentle salty miso cuts through the tenderest slivers of corn-fed chicken to make the most wonderful savoury dish. With three vinegars, four chilli sauces, sprinklings of sugar, pinches of salt, dashes of Shaoxing wine and slivers of ginger, spring onion and garlic, I create hundreds of tried and tested dishes. I always use the freshest ingredients of the highest quality. And that will never change. So you see, theres no celebrity to sell here.

For starters, I dont really write. More worrying is the fact that my father is a bit of an enigma. After all these years growing up and now working in the restaurant with him, Im still trying to figure him out. The only thing Im sure of is that he is a gifted cook with an unflinching belief in traditional Chinese values. I suppose this is reflected in his cooking style; it is steeped in tradition but you cant compartmentalise it. If I had to describe him in three words it would be: focused, uncompromising, traditionalist.

He is very much a staunch believer in Chinese culture, and a man of few words. He talks only about food and the restaurant. He lives and breathes food and when he does express himself, he expresses himself the only way he knows how, through cooking. I dont think we have ever sat down and had a personal conversation, it is just not in his character. Hes coy about the past and rarely expresses his feelings, but this is a common trait among his generation. Everything I know about him centres on cooking and the restaurant.

If anything, becoming a dad myself has brought my father and me closer together. Its surreal to see my children playing in the restaurant now, like I did all those years ago, and it not only illustrates how quickly time has passed but how proud I am of what he has achieved. It was clear to me from a young age that he is a creative, tireless chef who never stops and is never satisfied. His is the stereotypical immigrant story about a couple who came to the UK with nothing but the desire to better their lives. My father often tells me, talk is cheap and nothing substitutes hard work and a strong work ethic. Back when he first started he didnt have a day off for over ten years.

Even at nearly seventy years old, he is never idle and will still put in a shift and a half; when the rest of the chefs are taking a break, he continues with the prep. It keeps him young and he will only stop when he is physically unable to do it any more. His values have been instilled into me and my sisters over the years. We were all expected to pull our weight as youngsters and we always had to make a contribution towards the business. As much as we resented working through weekends and holidays, greeting and serving customers or washing the wok in the basement, it made us realise how difficult it was back then for our parents, which is not a bad thing. Customers often ask me why the restaurant is called Hunan.

They say, Your fathers cooking is not Hunanese? Thats true. Its another quirk in his personality. When the restaurant first opened he served dishes mainly from the Hunan province, such as double-cooked pork, and some of these original dishes are still being offered to customers today. But over the years my father has adapted and incorporated the other styles of cooking he had learnt before he opened Hunan. His cooking style is a mixture of Hunanese, Taiwanese, Cantonese, Sichuan and Northern Chinese (dong bei). The restaurant was named in honour of his first mentor who taught him Hunanese cooking and he will never change the name.