HAVE FINALLY MADE MY MARK’
Seeking a new challenge in retirement, former banker Irini Tzortzoglou was crowned winner of Masterchef. Despite facing loss and illness since this triumph, the new chapter in her life is bringing joy and fulfilment
Masterchef winner Irini Tzortzoglou on her culinary journey
Ibecome very emotional when I remember the moment in March 2019 when I was announced winner of Masterchef. It wasn’t that I thought lots of doors would fly open and that I would suddenly be able to do things I hadn’t before, such as open a restaurant or become famous. For me, the emotion came from thinking about all those who had crossed my path, from my family in Greece to my husband and friends in Britain, who had helped me, influenced me and encouraged me. I was flooded with the feeling that, at the age of 61, I had won for all of them, and that memory still makes me teary.
Growing up in a hamlet on the Greek island of Crete, far away from the beaches and hotels that many people know from holidays, my family lived a traditional life with simple, decent food at its centre. The Cretan climate gave our fruit and vegetables an intensity of flavour that I have never known anywhere else. We had the purest olive oil and ate organic food without knowing that there was an alternative.
I was fascinated by food preparation. I loved the sights and smells, and watching people take ingredients and transform them into something different. My grandmother, a priest’s wife and mother of seven, was constantly cooking. Instead of making one loaf of bread, she would bake 10. I can see her now, using her fists to knead dough in a tin bath. I’d fetch and carry for her, getting in her way, fascinated by her work.
She was just one of the influences on my life. When I was eight, I moved to Athens with my mother, Maria, father, Orestis, and my two brothers. It’s a city that attracts people from all over Greece, each with their own cooking styles and traditions. I can see now that it made a huge impression on me.
INSPIRED BY TWO COUNTRIES
It was in Athens that I met a diplomat’s daughter who threw smart dinner parties, preparing her home, her food and herself for the occasion. My role was to wash and dry for her and, as I carefully handled her precious crystal dishes, I took it all in. That refinement she brought to entertaining – a far cry from my upbringing – is still a big influence on me to this day.
Back in Crete, working in a hotel, I fell in love with a British holidaymaker called Ian. Getting married and moving to London with him in 1980 was a big step, but I was headstrong and craved independence away from the strict rules of Greek family life. While eating out in London then was pretty dreadful, I discovered during Sunday lunch at my in-laws and dinner with friends that British home cooking could be delicious. I couldn’t add to my collection of cookery books quickly enough and magazines such as Good Housekeeping became a constant companion in the kitchen.
My grandmother used to make bread in a tin bath for all of us
I was fascinated by the process of creating delicious food, but for nearly 30 years I threw myself into work, in various positions with Greek banks. Throughout those years, cooking remained a sideline. During the week, I’d grab something quick and easy from the supermarket, only experimenting more if we invited friends round to dinner at the weekends, and cooking Greek food only if they requested it.
I did yearn for the food from Crete and counted the days to my annual trips home. It wasn’t just the dishes of my childhood that I craved, but also the freshness of the ingredients. The imported aubergines, tomatoes and courgettes were a pale imitation compared with the sun-ripened vegetables of home.
Sadly, Ian and I drifted apart and we divorced, although we have remained friends. I met my second husband, John, at work; we married in 2000 on the Greek island of Spinalonga. A decade ago, we decided to step out of our jobs in banking and build a new life for ourselves away from London, settling near the village of Cartmel in Cumbria.
We set up a company selling villas in Greece and, not tied to the strict working hours of banking, I could visit Crete four or five times a year. Being there as the walnuts ripened or the olives were harvested, I began to feel the influence of my homeland much more strongly. At the same time, I was feeling as if something was missing in my life. I was in my late 50s and certainly not ready to take things too easy yet. I think I was driving John mad. One day he just said to me, ‘Why don’t you do Masterchef?’
He knew that I loved food and was inspired by the farming community where we lived. My cooking was getting better and he could see our friends enjoying my meals. I’d always loved Masterchef and suddenly the idea of giving it a go seemed right. I knew I’d have to go all out to get picked, so I attacked the challenge with military precision. It became all-consuming. John ate very well, but I would give him the same dish 10 times until he was sick of it! He and my best friend, Chryssa, were the only people who knew what I was doing, so he had to eat everything I cooked whether he liked it or not.
It made sense to bring some Greek flavours to my food, but I still didn’t intend to ‘cook Greek’ until it became clear that it was what would make me stand out in the competition. It was scary because I hadn’t lived in Greece for so long. I also knew that I could not cook the way my grandmother and mother had, presenting a plate of hearty lentils or moussaka to judges Gregg Wallace and John Torode as if they’d just come in from a day in the fields! I had to cook in a way that critics and chefs would appreciate, introducing my Greek heritage in small ways. So that’s how there came to be a fusion in my cooking, with influences from different times in my life.
As the judges fell in love with my food, I fell in love with it myself. Every Masterchef winner must feel that it alters their life, but for me, it was a journey on so many different levels. Having grown up in a very strict family environment, where modesty was prized, I went into the competition with low expectations, struggling to accept the praise I received. I had to work hard on this, gradually coming to understand that the success was for all those who had helped me along the way as well as myself.
During my preparation for the programme, I recorded my successes and failures in a journal, along with the memories of food and my family that came flooding back to me. Many are included in my book Under The Olive Tree, which has allowed me to share everything I know and love about Greek food.
LIFE IN LOCKDOWN
The past 18 months have been incredible, and I wake up every day wondering what else might happen because
I have no idea where this wonderful path might take me. That positivity has helped me through some difficult times. My beloved mother died in Greece a few months after my win, and I fell ill with coronavirus early on in the pandemic.
I was so careful, knowing I was living in an area with many elderly people, so I wore a mask and gloves early on. But still I got it in early March. We think maybe John brought it back after meeting a friend in London for dinner, who also had the symptoms. John didn’t appear to have it at all, but I got very ill. One night, I felt so bad I thought maybe my time had come. I sat John down and told him that if the worst happened, I wanted him to know that I was very happy and that he mustn’t worry. He was very calm and collected but it really worried him; I found out later that he spent the next few nights checking on me.
It sounds odd, but I wasn’t scared. In some ways, I felt there were people waiting for me on the other side. Fortunately, after three weeks in bed at home, I got better. To start with, I couldn’t even walk 100 metres without John’s support but, bit by bit, I started to get stronger. And there have been some positives from this time. Even in Cumbria, the air was clearer; we gave nature a break, making us more mindful about things like popping to the shops in the car. It also made us see the importance of other people in our lives. I’ve been able to tell John how much his support and love means to me. I have also been cooking a lot, reminding myself how good preparing food is for the soul.
This time has helped me to process my feelings about my mother’s death. I had always dreaded losing her, partly because I don’t have any children of my own to focus on. But now I have the book, which I dedicated to her. My Masterchef win was very important to her, not for the victory itself but for the way I acknowledged my past. It was almost a validation of the upbringing she had given me. She knew that I was frustrated by the fact that I felt I had gone through life without making my mark. Now I hope I have.