Jamie Oliver - The Naked Chef

Dedicated to my mum and dad the best parents in the world. Thanks for everything. Love always, Jamie XXX

Welcome to the anniversary edition of my very first cookbook.

When I flick through this book and hear my youthful voice jumping out from the pages, in some ways I feel like a very different person no kids yet, not much responsibility, and aside from those shirts and that haircut, life was much simpler. But on the other hand, I immediately recognize the same fire thats driven me from day one, and the belief in how powerful really good food can be. I still believe that if everyone was able to cook, shop and budget, the world would be a much happier, healthier place.

Enthusiasm, accessibility and building confidence in the kitchen has always been my aim. Put very simply, this book is all about bloody great food to have at home with friends and family. Its about cooking instead of grabbing a takeaway, or having a dinner party and sharing it with friends the whole point being that if a kid can do it (which I was at the time), anyone can, and itll taste incredible, too! When I first started out not many men seemed to be engaged in cooking, but in no time at all, I had blokes from all over the country getting in touch to say that Id inspired them to get stuck in and give it a go and with good results which was extremely humbling and exciting to hear. It really was a brilliantly bonkers time.

Who would have known 20 years ago that The Naked Chef would go on to sell 3 million copies in 25 languages around the world it honestly blows my mind! The recipes on the pages that follow seem to have withstood the test of time, and I would be more than happy to serve them in any restaurant or at home for my family. I hope you love and cherish them as much as I do.

When I first moved to London I rented a tiny flat in Hampstead, with a kitchen the size of a cupboard. After that I moved to a Hammersmith basement flat, which wasnt much better, so I knew only too well the restrictions of a small kitchen with only basic cooking equipment.

I had been cooking good food in a restaurant for some time, but found it difficult to recreate many of the recipes at home for lack of time, space, equipment or, sometimes, the availability to the average shopper of good-quality produce at reasonable prices. So, in an effort to recreate some exciting restaurant recipes in a limited kitchen, I found myself stripping down those recipes to something quite basic. I then adapted them, using what I did have in the cupboard, larder, fridge or garden.

Using this principle I have built up a foolproof repertoire of simple, delicious and feisty recipes. At the same time Ive tried to avoid culinary jargon and any complicated, time-consuming process that isnt justified by the end result.

The aim of this book is to inspire you to get into the kitchen, fired with enthusiasm and confidence.

I grew up in a pub in a small, pretty village called Clavering, near Saffron Walden in north Essex. Having lived there all my life, pulling pints, opening bottles of wine and cooking were all part of everyday life to me.

My interest in cooking began after I said to my dad one day, All my friends are getting pocket-money can I have some, please?

He smiled. No, he said, but you can get up in the morning and earn some if you want!

Dad always had a thing about getting up in the morning. I can clearly remember what used to happen if I overslept on a Saturday morning in the summer he would be watering the window-boxes and would put the hose through my bedroom window and squirt me as my early morning call! Dad had a selection of pleasures awaiting me, all involving lots of hard work and generally a broom or a mop (I dont know who he shoved up the chimney, but luckily it wasnt me). After that I was promoted to a spell in the wash-up, which was even harder and sweatier. I thought this was perhaps not macho enough for a cool and sophisticated eight-year-old I decided that most of the hardcore action was in the kitchen with the real men, and thats where I wanted to be. Here my education began. And not only in the culinary department, because I also learnt some very choice language! I must have been a real pain for my dads five chefs, but they were very patient and encouraging. This is where I began to learn my practical and technical skills.

I worked in the pub every Saturday and Sunday until I left school. When I was fifteen I had two weeks work experience at the Star at Great Dunmow, and Brian Jones and his head chef had enough faith in me during my second week there to put me in charge of a section. I was in my element, and this inspired my decision to cook for a living.

Fortunate enough to get a place at Westminster Catering College in Vincent Square, I commuted every day for three years. I was completely in awe of the enormous college and the cosmopolitan mix of students. It was wicked! I loved every single part of the course, not just the practical work, as there was always so much of interest going on throughout the college.

My personal taste for classy, modern food wasnt fully formed at this stage. As a young chef I navely thought that a busy plate was a good plate. It wasnt until I went to work at Chteau Tilques in France that I learnt that quality, real care, love and individual flair have to go into every stage of food preparation.

This was where my passion for food was conceived; surrounded by people who were so much more talented than I was, whose enthusiasm was highly contagious and very inspiring, I learnt all that I could.

The place to learn more, I thought, could only be London. Everyone in the restaurant scene was going mad for it; and I had to be a part of it.

I desperately wanted to learn about Italian food, and was lucky enough to get a job at Antonio Carluccios Neal Street Restaurant, where their pasta and bread are undoubtedly some of the very best in London. Antonio Carluccio and his sidekick Gennaro Contaldo are famous for their wonderful wild mushrooms. I thought it was so funny when, in the middle of the English porcini season, some old Italian men came to pick mushrooms for five days. They knew their stuff (quite important when youre picking mushrooms!) they knew of secret locations in the country, and returned each day with huge baskets of porcini. On Monday they looked extremely poor and scruffy but by Friday they were wearing really flashy new white top-of-the-range Nike trainers. Excellent! Picking mushrooms was obviously a well-paid job!

After a year at the Neal Street Restaurant, and finding that I loved Italian food, I felt I wanted an even broader knowledge of it. I then decided that I wanted to work at the River Caf. I rang the restaurant at least ten times, attempting to speak to Ruth Rogers or Rose Gray to ask for an interview. Eventually I was able to speak to Rose she sounded very cold and blunt; she scared the hell out of me! But I was soon to find out that it was just her telephone manner and that actually she is the nicest, warmest and most inspirational chef that I have ever met.