I grew up in a small village in Poland. My mum was a chef, and her side of the family were farmers. Living on a farm, eating only what was seasonal, preserving food for the winter, and living from the land, my childhood taught me an important lesson: Life is for working. Not necessarily to make money, but rather to help one another as a community, and to put food on the table.
As Poland was still under communist rule, ration books were used for many of life’s essentials. Because of this, rural village shops often had shelves that were bare except for toilet roll and vinegar. The need to grow, forage and trade food was shared by the entire community.
My Grandfather would trade eggs, milk, and bread with the local fishermen, and smoke the eels that they had caught, and in late September we would be given a week off school to go and pick potatoes. My Grandad would take the potatoes and cover them with straw, and they would be our staple food for the winter. Whatever was left was for the animals.
It was hard work, but inspiring, fun, and wholesome. By growing our own food, preparing everything from scratch, and never allowing anything consumable to go to waste, we lived well. More importantly, we cared for our animals’ welfare and worked in tune with nature in a way that was good for the planet.
As a child, I had learnt the process of drawing food from the earth, the simple goodness of seasonal produce and the natural preservation of supplies. It had sparked a life-long curiosity and love of food.
As an adult, I have worked in restaurants in the UK and Norway. I have cooked at some of the most high-profile establishments in the UK, but my approach to food, and my attitude to the guests I served never changed.
I create exceptional dishes for everyone. I work hard and I have extremely high standards, all in the hope that my customers love every mouthful and leave the restaurant with amazing memories of the food they have eaten.