Paul OCallaghan - Calso Cooks: Real Food Made Easy

I grew up in a small parish called Derrynoose in County Armagh, Northern Ireland. Derrynoose is a small place with a church, pub, shop and school at the heart of it. It also has its Gaelic football pitch and club, which I was part of while growing up. I wasn't what you would call 'very good' at football, but I did give it a good rattle, playing in goal for a number of years growing up with three older brothers would accustom you to that role. Throughout my childhood I also dabbled in a little bit of cooking, like most children, helping out my mother with baking apple tarts and the like, but there was nothing to indicate I was 'passionate' about food from an early age. Not surprisingly, I spent most of my time in the kitchen getting in the way, and caused more flour to fall on the floor than into the mixing bowl.

I come from a large family; I am the youngest of nine, with three brothers and five sisters. So my parents made dinners with the intention of stretching their ingredients to the maximum and feeding the troops, rather than tantalising the taste buds. Now please don't get me wrong, I am by no means complaining about the lack of top-notch cooking in the house because I was a fussy wee fella when it came to food. I didn't like vegetables apart from potatoes and I didn't eat lamb or beef. No, my main diet consisted of the trusty spud with lashings of ketchup or beans with either chicken or a pork chop. Can you imagine, after eight agreeable kids, getting landed with a fussy bugger that doesn't eat his veg?!

As I grew up, eating was just one of those things that needed to be done, along with breathing, sleeping, going to Mass and ... well, I would say doing homework, but anyone who knows me knows that I never partook in that exercise at all! I never did quite see the point of homework, I mean, did I not do enough during the day in class? It turns out that no, no I didn't do enough at school! I did, however, ditch CDT (craft, design and technology) for Home Economics ... there was no contest really.

I went on to become a labourer on a plastering squad and then to being a plasterer and having my own successful business until the building trade went belly up in 2008. So, for a change of scenery and a new start, I decided to make the move to County Clare, as I have a sister married and living down here and I was used to the area from visiting. One thing I was not expecting was to fall madly in love with food, and not just eating it, but growing it, cooking it and everything that goes with it.

When I first moved down to County Clare I was unemployed, trying to start up as a handyman, but I was only getting some small jobs and they were few and far between. I had debts from the loss of my plastering business and it seemed the more I was at home without work and an income, the more the bills and letters demanding money came through the post. I very quickly and very easily fell into depression. The letters would come in and they would be slung unopened into a bottom drawer; the phone calls would be ignored or hung up on. Soon I had no interest in going to do some of the small jobs that did come up. It was a horrible time: worry, stress, mood swings and being generally pissed off with the world. For about eighteen months I lived this way, all the while putting on a front to everyone who knew me and everyone I met.

I rented a small flat for a while, but all I wanted was a house with a bit of space where I could start a small kitchen garden something that I knew relatively little about, but I still knew it was something I wanted to do from watching TV shows like River Cottage and Jimmy's Farm . Then the opportunity came up for the house I rent now and I grabbed it with both hands. It has a huge garden and my landlord gave me the go-ahead to make a small kitchen garden, even though he seemed a bit sceptical, probably thinking I would dig a patch then leave it to run wild. But, in growing my own vegetables in the garden, I found a purpose again: this was something to get out of bed for and it gave me a whole new lease of life. In the meantime, since I had moved down, my sister Louise, who is a fantastic cook, had been cooking meals for me with flavours of herbs and spices that I had never experienced before. I can tell you, I was smitten. So I gradually started growing herbs and buying spices, along with different oils, sauces, vinegars etc. and experimenting in cooking and baking with the aid of cookbooks from the local library (I must say that libraries are the most fantastic but somehow unused resource around) and advice from my sister.

Cooking became exciting. I couldn't wait to get cooking my next meal and found a hidden passion for cooking for others, waiting to see what they thought of flavour combinations. I started to realise what flavours paired well with each other and how I could introduce herbs and spices into everyday meals to make them more flavoursome. With the fresh produce from my ever-expanding garden and other local fresh produce I just couldn't, and still can't, get enough of experimenting and perfecting recipes in my kitchen. At the start it was probably a terrifying experience coming around for dinner to my house: my guests would be subjected to hearing exactly what every ingredient was and were then force fed as I glared from across the table awaiting any kind of reaction and willing them to 'LIKE IT, GOD DAMN IT' ... but I have toned it down a bit now ... I think!