Jamie oliver

Ella Walker talks to much-loved celebrity chef Jamie Oliver, and finds him in a rather reflective mood

THREE years ago, Jamie Oliver turned 40, and he really “didn’t enjoy it much”. The prospect of entering his fifth decade made The Naked Chef more than a little “reflective”, he admits. Meanwhile, his long-time mentor Gennaro Contaldo - who guided Jamie through his early days at the late Antonio Carluccio’s Neal Street Restaurant during the Nineties - was edging towards the big seven-oh. “He was in a similar but different reflective kind of moment,” remembers Jamie. Getting away, escaping for a bit became increasingly appealing to them both. “Me and Gennaro felt we needed that time personally.” Italy, Gennaro’s homeland, became the destination, and the pair spent months travelling from the northern mountains to the southern islands, across the seasons. The result is Jamie’s latest cookbook and accompanying Channel 4 series, Jamie Cooks Italy. It’s not just about the duo barrelling around Italy gorging on pasta in an effort to scrub out the years though. Instead, the pair set out to learn from the last generation of Italian ‘nonnas,’ women in their 80s and 90s who “didn’t grow up with fridges, freezers, microwaves, gas, electricity - we’re talking about old school,” notes the Essex-born restaurateur, reverently. The aim was to capture “a snapshot, a moment, a bit of history”, and by meeting the “matriarchs of the best cooking on the planet”, help preserve a way of cooking and eating that could cease with a generation. “I am, and I think they are,” says Jamie, when asked if he’s worried the food of the nonnas is being gradually eroded. “Things fade, things go, things that are loved and important and really good for family nutrition, or communities or farming or fun, they can be going for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years, [but] it only takes five years for something to completely die off.” “Every single nonna, without question, was like, ‘Share this, get this to as many people as possible, people aren’t cooking that in this village anymore,’” he continues. “It’s fair to say that the new generation of young Italian boys and girls are not cooking like the one before, and the one before and the one before that.” Strangely, he says the recipes in the book are “almost smoke and mirrors” the food is important, but with every encounter, whether it was making orecchiette by hand with nonna Graziella in Puglia, or eating sweet and sour rabbit with nonna Marina in Salina, it increasingly became apparent that Jamie and his crew were working on more than a cookbook, they were making a record of “life and being grateful”. “It’s about love and seizing the moment,” he says, shaking his head, keen to not sound overly romantic. “We laughed a lot, and we cried quite a lot.” He tells of making tiella, with nonna Linda in Puglia, a baked long grain rice dish bejewelled with tomatoes, courgettes and mussels (“She shucked these mussels, not for mussels’ sake, but almost as a seasoning - my god it was delicious”). “She was so welcoming,” remembers Jamie. “I was introducing everyone outside in this square, but I kept doing really rubbish Italian, so she didn’t understand what I was saying. I kept getting it wrong, and every time I got it right, the bells would ring. “We started giggling - she hadn’t got a clue who I was - then we just giggled like children for 15 minutes.” For Jamie, who worked in the kitchens at the famed River Cafe, Italians (“They’re just crazy enough”) and Italian food have always held a certain charm. He blames its winning combination of “high flavour, simplicity and comfort - a lot of it makes you feel good”, and it not being “too elegant or over crafted”. And no, the nonnas weren’t too zealous with him when sharing their recipes. “They’ll go, ‘You can do that if you want,’ because they’re mums, right? Yes, they’re strict about the recipe, but if two more people turn up, they’ve got to stretch it, and if it’s not in season, they’ve got to use something else.” “It’s about knowledge,” he continues. “If you truly love something, regardless of how old or what people think of you, it’s still OK to hunt and search and grovel for knowledge. “And if you say, ‘Do you want to go to this Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner, or go to nonna Marina?’ I’m with Marina every time.”