Never mind the pollock
As Rick Stein opens in London, he tells about his blended family and why cod
RICK STEIN is enthusing about a meal he had recently at McDonald’s in Australia. “I always order a Grand Angus burger,” says the TV chef and restaurateur. “It’s fabulous — really thought-through and a bit indulgent — too much cream, too many chips, but very nice. A lot of my customers wouldn’t go to a McDonald’s but we are all after the same thing in this business: pleasing the customer. I don’t know why people get so aerated about it. I like McDonald’s.”
He has just returned from holiday in Hawaii with his wife Sarah, her two children and his three sons from his first marriage. “As my son said, it was a great holiday with the Brady Bunch,” say Stein with a relaxed smile. His stepdaughter, Olivia, aged 17, “is really good news”. “I have boys so this is a whole different game, even if she can be a bit hard on me. She’s going to Westminster Catering College, so I’m chuffed.
“I’ve been lucky with my stepkids. They were little when we met so they’ve always accepted me. Having a stepfamily is so much more common these days and it’s nice to report I don’t have a lot of problems. Touch wood.” Stein, 70, raps on the table at the studio where we’re talking between shoots for his new cookbook, about Mexico.
Stein is agreeable company, with all the exuberant affability that makes him so popular on television in evidence. More than 20 years in the business has done nothing to dim this keenness: “I just like sharing enthusiasm for where I am with a lot of people. Food is a great thing to be enthusiastic about, it’s not hurting anybody.”
He is wearing one of his signature pink shirts, chosen in a hurry because he spent too long experimenting with tortilla recipes and didn’t leave time to iron, and an Apple watch — “Doing 10,000 steps every day is important. That stuff about it being counterproductive to measure is bollocks.”
After making his name with restaurants in Cornwall, turning Padstow into “Padstein”, Stein has his sights set on London. Last week he opened his first restaurant here, taking over The Depot in Barnes, near his house.
Is his patch of south-west London about to become Barnes-Stein? He laughs. “I said I’d never open in London so it took a lot of soul-searching. I’m not looking for a central restaurant — I don’t want the competition and costs. This isn’t like doing a Wolseley. What I like about Barnes is it has its own identity — London is a series of v i l l a ge s . ” Regulars have warned him not to change The Depot too much, “it’s been there 30 years so is entwined with people’s memories. It’s a bit like Padstow.”
It was his son Ed, 38, who told him The Depot was ava i l a b l e , thanks to a “heads-up from a school pal”. His other sons, Jack, 36, and Charlie, 31, are the executive chef and the wine buyer respectively.
Jack arrives during our interview and Stein brightens at his presence. Despite trying to talk Jack out of a career in food — “I told him it’s hard work” — Stein is happy. “I like to think I’m the boss but I think Jack gently humours me.”
Jack is introducing his father to London’s food scene. “He has friends with restaurants that are so trendy I think: ‘Woah’.” The food at Carl Clarke’s Chick’n’Sours is “mindblowing”.
“It’s applying ideas from all over the world and making fast food out of it — so clever. If I was a young man now I would probably be doing the sort of thing Carl is doing.”
Stein says he isn’t driven by profit and he isn’t planning any more restaurants soon. “It’s not about the commercial side, it’s just fun. I’ll be using this restaurant personally. We needed to grow a bit because we have talented top management and we need to pay them a salary that makes them want to stay, but I think we are happy now. I don’t think I’ll take over the world.”
His role is quality control. “We have all these restaurants and the worry is that they have to deliver the same quality.”
Jill, his ex-wife, is still a partner in the business.“Wedon’ttendtocommunicate unless it’s to do with the business,” says Stein. “But time’s a great healer and we’ve always retained a sensible attitude to the business.”
They separated in 2002 after nearly 30 years of marriage. Jill publicly slapped him in one of their restaurants when she learned he had cheated on her with Australian publicist Sarah Burns: “It was a hard time.”
He is sympathetic to Jeremy Paxman, who is currently in the news after splitting up with his wife of 35 years and going out with a woman 30 years younger than him. “It’s a useful story if someone goes off with a younger woman,” says Stein. “It was ever thus. I’ve met Jeremy at BBC jollies. He’s nice, not as acerbic as he comes over.”
WHEN his own separation was reported, Stein says, “I looked up the private lives of the journalists that were hounding me and there was no difference from mine. It’s just so e a s y. I remember re ading some journalist at The Times having a go at Jeremy and somebody wrote in saying there’s nothing they dislike more than two hacks having a go at each other. I’ll tell you what is annoying: if you go to the Mirror online the story about me is still there. I know you can get it taken off but I don’t want to do anything like that.”
Is marriage different the second time around? “I like to think I’m more thoughtful but Sas says I’m not.” She isn’t joining him filming in Mexico “which isn’t great but we’ll be driving a lot; she said what’s the point coming when I’m in a blinking minibus all day?” They run a restaurant in Australia together (“it’s a joy working together”) and are both prolific tweeters. “Twitter works well, I must say. I want to show people that I do read their tweets. It’s an interesting way of communication, maybe not if you are the President of the United States but if you just run a few restaurants it’s OK.” What about trolling? “I find it more upsetting getting a bad restaurant review.”
He swims every morning — 40 minutes of front crawl and breaststroke — and is “good” at turning off. He’s midway through reading All the Pretty Horses and listening to A Brief History of Seven Killings. “I wouldn’t mind doing more writing but it’d have to be a novel and I don’t know if I have the inclination.”
The proliferation of food TV excites him. He “quite likes” watching Jamie Oliver. “I used to be envious of his youth and enthusiasm but I think he has a good way of communicating.”
Reading, cooking and swimming help with mental health. Stein speaks openly about this. His father had bipolar disorder and committed suicide. “Swimming and cooking don’t involve a lot of thinking. Everybody thinks too
‘I used to be envious of Jamie Oliver’s youth and enthusiasm — but he has a good way on TV’