In school, I was never very academic, so I was always more interested in practical things; woodwork, metalwork, that sort of stuff. Back in the day, we used to do cookery and I was actually quite good at it. I was going to join the Royal Navy [as a chef], because my granddad had been in the Navy and he was my hero, but then, at the last second, I decided to do it the other way, so I went to catering college in Cardiff. Once you get into this job, it’s infectious, it just grabs you and eats you up. Thirty years on I still love it.

My mum used to be a nurse on a paediatric ward, so she worked mainly nights and my dad would cook dinner, which was fine apart from on Sundays. He could never master a Sunday roast, which is my favourite, especially the gravy. I must have only been about eight or nine when I told him, ‘If you’re cooking, I’ll make the gravy.’ So that’s how I started.

There was always a big emphasis on us all sitting down together. My mum would come home at 7am and we’d all have breakfast together. How many families do that these days? They also made a real effort to take us out to what I thought were really posh restaurants but it wasn’t so much the food I loved as the idea of going out and dressing up. We used to go to the Queen’s Hotel in Torquay, right on the harbour, and I loved it because I got to put a shirt on and there would be a gravy boat and proper cutlery. I loved that side of it before I fell in love with the food.

When I was in catering college, I worked part-time at an outdoor market in Newport selling jeans during the day on a Saturday, and then on Saturday night I used to go to a restaurant as a waiter, and then in the daytime on a Sunday, I went to another restaurant to work in the kitchen. Then I was offered a job by Gilbert Viader at a little restaurant called Le Cassoulet in Cardiff. He had just opened up; it was him in the kitchen on his own, his wife out front – a typical French bistro.

They lived upstairs and they had all these cookery books. I was reading Memories of Gascony by Pierre Koffman one day and I said, ‘Oh, where’s this chef? And he said, ‘He’s in London. He’s got a restaurant called Le Tante Claire.’ I thought, right, I’m going to London, so I got the Caterer magazine and saw an ad for the Royal Garden Hotel in Kensington. I said to my mum, ‘That sounds good, five star deluxe.’ She said, ‘Yeah, what are they advertising for? ‘Head housekeeper.’ But I wrote to them and they invited me up for an interview. I met a chef called David Nichols, who’s now Global Director of Food and Beverage at Mandarin Oriental, and ended up moving from a tiny kitchen to a hotel with 300 bedrooms and 20 chefs.

When I went to London, I thought I’d go for two years, learn everything, then move back to Wales and own my own restaurant. I didn’t know anything about the restaurant scene in London; as soon as you get there, and you’re in a kitchen with like-minded people, that’s when the infectious bit comes in. Then I discovered this thing called Michelin.

We went to Pierre Koffmann’s restaurant and I thought I’m going to work in a Michelin-star restaurant. I went to the Intercontinental Pierre Kromberg, which had one star, then I went to work for Marco Pierre White to test myself, because at the time it was the hardest kitchen around. Before I knew it, David Nichols invited me to the Mandarin Oriental as head chef and that’s where I got my first star. By then I’d been in London for 13 years and we’d had our first child. I always wanted the kids to grow up back in Wales and I had been approached by Lucknam the previous summer, but I was still committed to London. When they approached me again, I thought I’d at least go and have a look. My interview was three days before Christmas and, as I came up with the driveway I thought, they must have the wrong person. They offered me the job and it was close enough that I could commute from Wales, so the kids could grow up back where I’m from, and here we are, 21 years later.

The area, the suppliers, the ingredients. We’re constantly tweaking and listening to our suppliers about what’s best right now. It’s about not overcomplicating stuff, buying the best quality ingredients we can and then treating them with respect.

Oh, massively. I think the problem with a lot of youngsters now is that they try and follow styles. When I started off, there was no social media; you bought a cookbook and that was it. Now you flick through and every two seconds you see something new and it’s very easy to try and follow that. It’s natural. When you get your first head chef position, your food is going to be influenced by where you worked, but then you need to find your own style and be confident in what you’re serving. I think it’s probably the most exciting time there’s ever been in the UK for food.

That’s kind of a weird question, actually, because Michelin stars are very personal. It’s the best accolade I’ve ever had but the danger of chasing stars is that it becomes the be-all and end-all. You start doing things because you think you need to, not because it’s what you believe in. You’ve got to be confident in what you’re doing, be passionate about what you’re doing, do it for the right reasons. I cook because I absolutely love cooking. It’s not just a job, it’s my hobby.

You have to have aspirations and goals and, if earning stars or rosettes is the goal, fine, but you can’t lose focus of the main thing. The main thing is about cooking the best possible food you can for your guests. If you do that properly, accolades should come along. You get kids coming out of college who want to be sous chefs at 18. Forget that: start at the bottom, be a sponge, work your way up and get in the right place where they’re going to train you.

The one I want to go to next is Jason [Atherton’s] new place, Row on 45. That man is on a different scale, probably my favourite chef in London. Also, Phil Howard’s Elystan Street, because when we still lived in London, The Square was one of the only one- or two-star places open on Sunday nights, so it was full of chefs and it was absolutely incredible. I love Phil’s philosophy on food. He is the perfect seasonal chef and such a nice guy. Another favourite of ours in London is St John. That’s completely different but, again, it’s all about ingredient simplicity.

Now the kids have grown up, it’s just me and my wife, so that’s a whole new discovery. As a chef, any time away was always spent with Connie and the kids, and as a young family, it’s a different dynamic. I also do a bit of cycling and rugby. I played before I started cooking but once you get into this sort of job, you don’t have time.

That changes all the time but the all-time favourite is Brecon lamb with asparagus, morels, and wild garlic, which is all over the estate here.