RAVNEET GILL - PASTRY CHEFS GUIDE : the secret to successful baking every time.

It is interesting that Ravs earliest memories of her passion for sweets involve Cadburys Fruit and Nut, as I too share this predilection. But it always comes with a backnote of anxiety is there enough raisin? Is there sufficient nut? Is the nut-toraisin ratio correct? One always toys with the possibility of eating Cadburys Whole Nut, but then you would miss the chew. It is just the same dilemma with my cinema snack of choice (ideally while watching James Bond, since you ask) a bag of chocolate peanuts. Halfway through the bag, chocolate-peanut-fatigue sets in. The obvious solution is to buy a bag of chocolate raisins and mix the two together but then the crunch-to-chew ratio seems out of kilter. At this point you would do well to think of Cadburys Fruit and Nut, putting your trust in the golden ratio and remembering that The Great Chef in the Sky knows exactly what is best for us.

Being a good pastry chef is all about balance balance of sweetness, balance of flavour and providing the moment of balance, or perhaps the tipping point, at the end of the whole meal. Dessert is the diners final memory of a restaurant and it is for this reason that our dessert menu at St. JOHN is at least as long as the preceding courses (now thats a good, balanced menu). Desserts are fundamental, and for this reason there should be a little room for a pastry chef to flap their wings like a butterfly, a little leeway for culinary cheekiness. Rav has this in spades I particularly remember her take on a Tunnocks Tea Cake, to which I am rather partial. The crisp chocolate giving way to the soft giving marshmallow and the crumbly biscuit now that is cheeky.

A love of Fruit and Nut bars and chocolate-raisin-peanut pick-and-mix is not the only thing that Rav and I share. Early on in my cheffing career, I found kitchens to be a brutal place an experience sadly familiar to almost all chefs. In one kitchen my boss was a revolting man, on the rare occasions when one of the brigade would stand up to him, all the other chefs would hide behind their fridges in terror of the consequences. It is so odd that people have felt for so many years that kitchens need to be like this. They dont, as Rav knows well. Skills are learned through nurturing, experience and trust, not through brutality. It sounds like a hippy idea, but you really can taste sadness in a dish happy chefs make happy food, and isnt that what everyone wants? Rav has been a strong voice in spreading the word that kindness and happiness are as essential in the pastry-making process as decent butter and a lightness of touch.

When St. JOHN first opened, our puddings were fairly sparse, both in quantity and in style. For a little while many years ago, although I cant remember why, there was only rice pudding on the menu. But this didnt last long a succession of talented chefs were amply able to feed my pudding passion, each one adding to our repertoire and our skills. Rav was among these chefs. I often say that I feel like a mother hen, watching my chickadees go off into the world and build their own nests. Rav flapped her pastry chef wings away from the coop, and she is kind enough to say that she took a lot of inspiration with her. But her Cherry and Custard Pie still features proudly on our menu, and I will never forget those trotter-shaped prune and Armagnac chocolates she made one year, so she has left us the richer too. What better example of balance can there be.

Fergus Henderson

St. JOHN, London

I spent the first few years of my life living above a corner shop that my parents owned. I associate this time in my life with chocolate bars and sweets; most notably chocolate-covered raisins, Crunchie bars and Cadbury's Fruit and Nut. After we moved and left the corner shop behind, Dad would drive to the cinema to get me pick n mix style chocolate-covered peanuts and raisins. I would buy a full-size KitKat or a packet of those fizzy Willy Wonka sweets from the vending machine at school every day and at home I would enjoy Calippo ice lollies or Cornetto ice cream cones (and not a single tooth filling to this day!).

A lot of people assume I came to be a pastry chef through growing up baking, but that isnt true. My mum is a fantastic cook, but not a baker. Her mate Jo bought her the Delia cookbook, but I only ever saw Mum make those supermarket assemble-at-home trifles. You know, sponge fingers, Hartleys jelly, Ambrosia custard and squirty cream. Once, when we were living in Leyton in East London, I begged mum to make pancakes for Pancake Day. She asked the other mums at school how and attempted them, but I spat them out and told her they were disgusting (worst child ever). Her one sugary redemption is that she makes fantastic gulab jamun, a type of traditional Indian sweet. I can eat about five of those hot from the pan, but mum rarely makes those once every two years if were lucky.

I had never intended to be a pastry chef. I went to university to study psychology and fell into baking. I always enjoyed it here and there but was pretty terrible at it. Slowly, I started to bake more and become a bit obsessed. I loved cooking for people more than anything else, so I decided to train to become a chef after uni without any real knowledge of what the actual job entailed.

After working a few little jobs in the industry, I enrolled at Le Cordon Bleu to study ptisserie, but left after the second term after running out of funds. I leaped into kitchen after kitchen to gain practical experience instead. I have had some truly memorable bosses who have shaped me into the chef I am today. One of my earliest jobs involved working under a remarkable chef named Salvatore, who had a repertoire of gorgeous Italian desserts. Its through Salvatore I learned how to make the best cheesecake.

I moved on and was managed by another Italian chef, this time Fabiano. Fabiano knew food, and hes one of the most passionate people Ive ever met. I have no idea what hes up to now, as he hated social media and me to begin with. Rightly so, looking back, I was crap. No sense of urgency and with the arrogance to think I knew best (I now recognize these traits in some of the beginners who I train, so it has come full circle!). I did eventually improve, however, and Fabiano told me that he thought I never would, but was surprised at how much I did. Ha! Hi, wherever you are now.

When I set out to work in pastry, my goal was to make flawless ptisserie. You know, the stuff that looks a bit unreal because its so gorgeous? I did do bits like this along the way. Halfway through my career, I somehow landed at a place called St. JOHN. I started working there with a view to find time to search for a career in another field. I was really ready to give up after working long hours, missing every social gathering and earning virtually nothing. I was hunting for a grad scheme in food or anything, really, that would give me more of a life. When I first started, I found it annoying not being able to make complicated garnishes or use ingredients that werent in season. I also didnt really get it. Why would these people want to eat nose to tail? Or pay to eat smelly cheese or an animals tongue? My mum came in for dinner early on and asked for chilli sauce with her meal she didnt get it either. Because my parents hadnt been raised in the UK, my knowledge of seasonal British cuisine didnt really exist. Growing up, I mainly ate Indian food or the basics, like roast dinner always with added chilli.