I can't write about my time in Spain without mentioning Barcelona's awesome Boqueria market, my first experiences with the tools of molecular gastronomy, my first real understandings of the immense scope of responsibility of a Head Chef, eating at Bilbao's inspirational Guggenheim, at Barcelona's exceptional Cinc Sentits and at Girona's perfect El Celler de Can Roca. And I have immense pride at having cooked for two of the world's greatest living chefs - El Bulli's Albert Adrià and pastry genius Paco Torreblanca.

But time moves on and we all come to points in our lives when it's time for a change. Last Friday night a Ryanair flight touched down at Stansted airport and, armed with my suitcase full of clothes, my knife roll, my college diploma and a whole bunch of incredible experiences, I returned to my home country. If I had my time over again, I would make exactly the same decision. Two decades ago a young chef would have packed his or her bags and set off for the world's leading culinary country of the times - France. In my era, the country any aspiring young chef was bound to head off to was France's southern neighbour. I don't regret one single minute of my time in the truly wonderful country of Spain and I'm sure I'll be back.
Who knows where the future will take me. But, starting today, I've decided to seek employment as a chef in the land of my birth. It's been great to be away. It's even better to be home again.

























































