Gordon Ramsay is a chef that I have always respected and admired. I once ate at Aubergine and had an almost transcendental culinary experience - at the time I declared it to be the most exquisite food that had ever graced my lips. That was almost 10 years ago. The restaurant still exists, under different management, and represents an era when Ramsay was still relatively unknown to the masses and had yet to adopt the celebrity chef persona he has today. Nowadays it is impossible not to see his wrinkled yet ruggedly appealing face lending itself to yet another product, reality show or magazine article. Apart from being an exceptional chef some media hot-shot must have recognised the obvious entertainment value in producing documentary style programmes portraying this chef as a rude, obnoxious, git responsible for terrorising his kitchen staff and diners. Interestingly however, despite his obvious short comings, notably his explosive temper and obvious ego-centric quirks, his passion and love for food shone through and the public developed a particular fondness towards him. His new status also enabled him to build a restaurant empire on his lucrative name which has become synonymous with exacting and vigourous standards and has launched the careers of some of Britains most promising chefs.

Whilst I have had the good fortune to have eaten at a number of Ramsay establishments - Maze, The Connaught, Claridges and the Boxwood Cafe, it was the experience at his restaurant Gordon Ramsay on the Royal Hospital Road that I truly longed for. It is London’s sole 3 star Michelin and has received acclaim and honour from some of the most eminent critics and writers. It is the restaurant to which Ramsay has given his famed name and thus lures in gullible punters like myself with the inference that he is out back in the kitchen cooking your meal.

It’s reputation means that it is understandably a drag to get a reservation. Reserving a table requires the sort of timing reserved for a stand up comedian, entailing phoning on the dot of 9.00am and then being put on hold for half an hour in an attempt to secure a table in exactly one months time. After a few attempts my husband finally managed it, albeit at the rather unenviable slot of 6.30pm .

Despite the greetings from the convivial staff I could not fail to notice the complete lack of character afforded to the beige coloured, faux-opulent dining space. The only hint of design came from a spell-bindingly hideous glass screen which ran the length of the room and would have been more at home on a cross channel ferry. Admittedly Michelin starred restaurants are rarely bastions of style fit to grace the pages of Wallpaper, however they should at the least be vaguely pleasing to the eye. Lighting is particularly important as it can cast unflattering shadows, in this case it came from some badly positioned overhead spotlights which had the effect of making both my husband and the food look less than their best.

We chose the Menu Prestige comprising seven small courses we hoped would show off the kitchens much lauded and documented skills. To begin an assortment of amuse bouche’s were brought- the most notable a pumpkin Veloute which was delicious despite being searingly hot.

The first course, peking duck and foie gras terrine worked harmoniously together, the chinese five spices and sweetness of the duck cut through the buttery, velvety texture and richness of the liver. Ravioli of lobster whilst visually appealing failed to impress , the pasta dough was a little too doughy and lacked the requisite lightness. More successful was a perfectly cooked fillet of turbot atop an interesting citrus reduction.

A meat dish comprising beef fillet and beef cheek atop truffle mash was without doubt the winner of the evening. The fillet was amongst the most tender I have ever tasted, sublime, whilst the cheek was rich and unctuous.

A huge selection of excellent French cheeses from the Fromagerie were ceremoniously wheeled out before the dessert - a pannacotta of such richness and magnitude that neither of us could eat more than half of it.

Ramsay’s restaurant fulfils every requirement one would expect from a 3 star Michelin restaurant. The service is impeccable, the dishes (on the whole) perfectly executed and the wine list extensive and balanced. Yet my main critiscm would be that it ers too heavily on the side of caution. The food lacks any distinctive or original flair, it uses all the luxurious ingredients one has come to expect such as foie gras, truffles…. in a predominantly predicatable and uninspiring fashion. The meal at Aubergine lingers in my memory because it captured my imagination and introduced me to flavors, textures and combinations that I had never been exposed to.

Neverthless Ramsays contribution to the British culinary scene should never be underestimated. He was instrumental in an exciting culinary movement that emerged in the mid 90’s and which instilled a sense of pride into a public which had traditionally been uninspired to take an interest in food. Furthermore he altered the way in which British chefs were percieved amongst the snotty arbiters of taste in Europe. Now it can no longer be implied that the Brits don’t know how to cook the likes of Heston Blumenthal, Gordon Ramsay and a whole army of rising stars have put those ghosts to rest.

This week is London Fashion Week which showcases some of Britain’s most interesting designer creations. So it was rather fitting that I went with some girlfriends to the chic Berkeley hotel for Pret-a-Portea, a new concept in afternoon tea designed to add a creative twist to a previously stuffy occasion. All the cakes and pastries are based on the latest catwalk designs, the pastry chef even visits the London, Paris and Milan fashion weeks to gain inspiration.

I was in heaven. Combining my two great loves; fashion and food, I squealed with delight when presented with this seasons treats - the menu boasting delights such as a John Galliano lace mint cake, Chloe chocolate button slice, Alberta Ferretti glitter bow dress and a Missoni striped eclair.

Savoury snacks are also offered in the form of the most delicate, girly canapés; we all loved the tuna sashimi and mini crayfish cocktails. All are teeeny-tiny bite sized portions so won’t expand your waist band and squeeze you out of your latest Roland Mouret. Always a bonus. There is also a huge selection of tea served in the most beautiful Missoni-esque china.

Don’t bother trying to drag your man here - he won’t appreciate it, this is the ultimate afternoon out with the girls.

The first cookbook I ever personally owned was called the Step-by-Step cookbook by the Good House keeping Institute. It became the object of much amusement and derision as it had been given to me by my boyfriend at the time who must have been hinting that he was sick of take-outs and wanted some proper home-cooking. As the title infers it was aimed at the type of individual who had never even boiled an egg - perfectly suited to my level. At the time I was at university and thought that cooking was the preserve of middle aged, bored housewives with nothing much better to do. The book, needless to say lay in my unused kitchen gathering dust.

A couple of years later, during a particularly bad bought of flu, bored and now boyfriend-less I discovered the once offensive book buried in one of my kitchen cupboards. Lying in bed I flicked through the pages and was alarmed to find myself vaguely inspired to try some of the less adventurous recipes. The first recipe I ever made was prawn cocktail of which I was stupidly proud and churned out on a regular basis for any unsuspecting friend who happened to visit.

I had always appreciated and loved food but had never considered that I would actually derive any pleasure from cookery. Yet as my confidence slowly grew I tried what I considered to be the more complicated dishes. It will amuse you when I confess that I once thought roasting a chicken was a culinary feat.

When I first met my husband I knew that I would have to wow him with a meal that would make him fall instantly in love with me. I pulled out my trusted Good Housekeeping Cookbook and searched in vain for a meal that would win his heart. I alighted upon a sure fire winner Duck with a Redcurrant Sauce served with a pommes Dauphinoise. It was decadent, required skill and would surely impress. It certainly worked roughly two years after the meal he proposed and the rest is history………

It is definitely worth a go especially since Valentine’s day is just around the corner. Hopefully you’ll have as much luck as I did.

Duck with a Redcurrant Sauce
4 duck breasts (I use barbary duck)
2 cinnamon Sticks
175g red onion, peeled
15ml (1tbspolive oil)
1 garlic clove crushed
300ml chicken stock
300ml red wine
5ml dried marjoram
1tbsp Dijon mustard
2tbsp redcurrant jelly
salt and pepper
watercress to garnish

Brown the duck breasts skin side down first, in a large non-stick saute pan, with the cinnamon sticks. Transfer to a large roasting tin. Cook at 180 C mark 6 for 15 minutes or until crisp and golden and just cooked through.

Meanwhile, roughly chop the onion. Heat the olive oil, in a saucepan and saute the onion with the garlic, until golden. Add the remaining ingredients, bring to the boil and let bubble until reduced by half, strain and reheat.

Drain the fat from the duck. Serve thickly sliced with a little of the sauce spooned over. Garnish with watercress and serve the remaining sauce separately

The following recipe for pommes dauphinoise is taken from the Gordon Ramsay’s Secrets, a remarkable cookbook.

Pommes Dauphinoise

600g slightly waxy potato (such as la Ratte or Maris Piper)
350ml milk
350ml double cream
1 large garlic clove
1 thyme sprig
1 bay leaf
90g Gruyere cheese, grated
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 200 C, Gas 6. Peel the potatoes thinly, then slice evenly into 1cm slices. Bring the milk and cream to the boil in a large saucepan and add the garlic, herbs and seasoning. Simmer for a couple of minutes.

Slide the potatoes into the pan and stir gently. Simmer for about 7 minutes until the potato slices are only just tender, they should hold their shape and retain a bite. Drain the par-cooked potatoes in a colander set over a bowl to catch the creamy milk.

Layer the potatoes in a shallow oven proof dish, sprinkling two thirds of the cheese and seasoning in between the layers. Trickle a little of the saved milk over each layer too.

Pour a little more milk around the sides, but not too much-just enough to moisten. Sprinkle over the last of the cheese.

Place the dish in a shallow roasting tin and bake for about 15 minutes or until the cheese is beginning to bubble and turn golden brown. Allow to stand for 10 minutes before serving.