Poppy Cooks

INTRODUCTION

I've only gone and written a recipe book!

I've thought about my first recipe book for a LONG TIME! Lots of little girls plan their weddings with scrapbooks and moodboards, but ten-year-old Poppy was instead thinking what her cookbook would be like ... and now it's actually happened!

As a chef who loves to teach people about food, I've always wanted to make cooking accessible - and without the judgement. As a result of working your way through this book, I want you to find out (and then believe) that you can make incredible food. There are no scary recipes that you'll look at and think: 'How on earth am I meant to do that?!' Sure, you might make a few mistakes along the way - but, who cares? You'll learn from them, keep going and definitely have a platefulof deliciousness by the end of it. And I can guarantee that, together, we'll have fun in the process.

I've been working in kitchens for over a decade and I still make mistakes (shout-out to that time I poured a pork sauce that my boss had taken two days to make down the sink because I thought it was old caramel). And to be fair to me, I've seen chefs at every level make a lot of mistakes ... but maybe I just made a few more as an often-distracted chef who spent too much time bellowing Britney to lighten the mood in a stressful kitchen. When did cooking stop being fun? Yes, we all want to avoid messing up, but how can we learn if we don't take risks?

So, make mistakes. They are good for you. Every mistake is part of the process of getting to know how you-the-chef likes to cook, and finding out what's special about you-the-creator and how you can make food that you love every day. We're not just talking about a few dishes you want to make sometimes - we're dealing with the amazing food you need every day.

It's easy to feel intimidated by gorgeous food. I don't know about anyone else, but I used to see the perfect photos on lnstagram and think: 'There's no way I'm going to be able to place my banana on my baked oats to look that edgy.' Let's just take a moment of silence for the endless food photos I've taken and have never uploaded, even as a professional chef. Sliding up the saturation and brightness can't always work miracles.

But that's where I see food differently. Food for me is love - it's not perfection. Food is my Nan's bolognese at the end of the week, as the members of my family made their way through a bottle of red wine (or six) and an eight-year-old me planned how I'd get away from the table to grab some pre-dessert from the fridge before actual dessert came out. It's the giant paella that I tripled in size during catering lessons so that I could make my mates feel like we were the coolest kids in school as we all tucked into it in the lunch hall instead of the usual Pasta Kingtub. This book is all about the food you love and how, together, we can make sure you're eating it every day.

A bit about me

My love of food began at a young age because I loved eating. And I loved eating A LOT. It wasn't long before I clocked that if I offered to help in the kitchen, there would be more chances to eat along the way. (Not much has changed, to be fair. Even now my whole day revolves around food and when or what I'll be eating next.)

I spent a lot of time cooking with my Nan, between watching Keith Floyd on the TV in a living room surrounded by recipe books. My Nan loved recipe books, a love that she passed on to my Mom and then to me - and now (a bit surreally, to behonest) I have my own recipe book. My Nan sadly passed awaywhen I was just ten, but the memory of how food (especially her food) can make you feel so good inspires me to teach as many people as I can to cook.

In all honesty, I was rubbish at school. I just was never committed enough to follow anything through to the end. (Let's hope you don't get halfway through the book and realise it's unfinished .... ) In my teens, I didn't commit to pushing my love of cooking, either: I entered a Future Chef competition at school aged 15 and by some complete fluke, I won. But, then I dropped out of the regional rounds because I was meant to practice after school twice a week to refine my craft... but the pull of sitting at home glued to MSN for eight hours won out instead.

Nonetheless, at this point I did at least realise I could cook well. I started working as a waitress at a local restaurant and soon convinced the chef to let my inexperienced self help out in the kitchen. It was a Scotch-eggs-and-poached-pears kinda vibe (not together), but it was a huge step up from the other job I was working at the same time: a chef at a local care home, where I made corned beef hash and endless cups of tea, with The Chase constantly on the TV. (The residents loved it.)

I should say that these two jobs were on top of school. Make no mistake, though, the two jobs were for no other reason than they gave me an excuse not to do coursework or revision, and justified why I left school having failed my A levels. Well, not entirely failed: I got a D in Food Tech, which I think is actually classed as a pass (or at least I've told myself that since). This is where I should say that school is very important - but it really isn't for everyone. School isn't the reason that in the last year I've achieved some of my goals and dreams - that's because at age 19, I kicked into fifth gear and worked my socks off. So, what I will say is: it's never too late to start again and to keep pushing.

And that was when I came across an apprenticeship a ta Michelin-starred restaurant in Birmingham. I definitely felt too old for it - all my friends were off at uni and here I was applyingfor a £3-an-hour job to go back to college with students two or more years younger than I was. The apprenticeship was like a 12-week college course/competition, at the end of which only two of us would be chosen to carry on working in the restaurant. The course ended and two were chosen - neither of which was me. Luckily, though, the restaurant decided to pick a third, a wild card. Enter me, into the world of fine dining. Over time, I worked my way through all sorts of kitchens - from Michelin starred to corporate catering - and I learnt exactly how to put incredible food on a plate.

You hear a lot of the same chat when you're a chef:'What's it like to be a chef?' 'I bet your dinners at home are amazing!' 'Your family and friends are so lucky!' Reality check: your own dinners are rarely amazing. You'd be lucky to rush a supermarket meal deal between the 7am-to-5pm and 6pm-to-12am split shifts. And you're always washing it down with a RedBull and embracing an evening of indigestion. On your days off? The priority is catching up on sleep rather than cooking more at home. That was my life for many years. I just got on with it.

Then, in March 2020, restaurants were forced to close because of the pandemic and I lost my job. But I started another crazy journey. I began making a few TikTok videos and here I am: millions of people have watched those videos and I have fallen in love with home cooking all over again. I have dedicated my career to learning the tricks of fine dining and how the industry works, but having the time at home has given me the opportunity to help people across the world bring everything I have learnt in professional kitchens to their own kitchen table.

Even now, saying 'millions of people' ... there's a bit of me that's like, 'Shut up, Poppy. Stop bigging yourself up.' But my videos have had over 100 million views on TikTok ... all while I've just been in my own kitchen during lockdowns, not seeing anyone, yet communicating with so many people every single day. Lots of you have shown me that you have a voice of doubt when you step into the kitchen, which tells you, 'I can't cook that', 'It's not worth me even trying' or 'Let's just order a takeaway.' But - and trust me when I say it - by the end of this book, I know you'll be creating some incredible dishes. Are you ready?