Intrigued?

This week, we’re heading over to Jeremy Lee’s and – let us tell you – it’s lovely. (Though, of course, we already knew that, having previously 

.) The shelves are groaning (with books and bowls and more books) and any guest invariably leaves similarly stuffed, fortified by the fruits of the Scots-born chef’s fondness for free-handed hosting. The glasses here are – metaphorically, literally, etc – half-full, if not running over.

, the Soho institution whose kitchen he’s helmed for more than a decade, he can be found here – an apartment in an old suit factory built in the 1920s, “happily placed between London Fields and Victoria Park in Hackney, near to some of the best bakers in London”. The split-level flat is prized by the chef and writer for its “extraordinary” concrete ceilings and huge windows, in front of which Jeremy’s desk is situated, giving him views across the city to mull over as he ruminates on 

. Also huge, he tells us, is his television, which is in near constant use, normally showing any one of his favourite classic films. He likes to play them as he chops, stirs and simmers, chatting over them to the many friends that often have a seat at his table. For as well sharing this space with his beloved bicycle, Jeremy says he lives, most importantly, among “memories and hopes – for lots of lunches and a lot of books”.

Well, having lived here a while, everything needs doing and I am keen as can be for a new kitchen and bathroom. As ever, any thought swiftly leads to another (and another), so at the moment, while considering the best route to take, I am delighting in the prospect of a new chaise longue – a sort of ship’s bunk-like affair that I may use as a day bed for a change of mise en scène. The piece is designed and being made by my dear friends Stephen and Annabelle, the architects behind Harty and Harty.

I am ever on the hunt for work shirts and jackets, as I go through so many in kitchens, on my bike in all weather and all the other usual shenanigans. I always look to Old Town for beautiful blue ones that are so worth the lead time when ordered (though one can buy them off the peg at Labour and Wait too) and to Service Works for the acest trousers.

I also cannot resist keeping an eye out for Yohji Yamamoto and Issey Miyake sales, always in search of wonderful big trousers and shirts. Oh, and linen aprons from Volga. So lovely.

Where to begin! There are so many. Of course, there are favourite peelers, pepper mills and pestle and mortars… But in truth I cannot conceive of life without a Magimix or KitchenAid.

There is always cheese from Neal’s Yard Dairy, among a great many other vital needs.

Apart from an ever-present bottle of Campari and a bottle of eau de vie de Poire Williams in the freezer, I would say the most prized are a few bottles of Burgundy and Barbaresco.

I am embarrassed to say most of my cherished pieces are as yet unframed. One joy hanging on the wall is the original artwork of 

, by the wonderful illustrator John Broadley, whose work adorns so much of Quo Vadis. It always makes me smile.

Living in a flat without a fireplace I have no mantelpiece, but I do have shelves galore with jugs, pots, bowls and all manner of kitchen and table stuff. Crammed among them are many bits and bobs such as old coins, funny little books, small figurines of characters from animated films, the odd toy car and plane, a tin full of pearl buttons that I love and a beautiful red wooden model railway truck from Priscilla Carluccios`s lamented shop, Few and Far.

I often return to the film scores of John Barry, which please me endlessly. Similarly, those of Alexandre Desplat – with

I haven’t a garden, which often irks. Instead I have a table groaning with a riot of Chinese money plants, which thrive despite my haphazard watering habits.

…Are so many things, such as boxes of custard cups, endless dishes and glassware found in markets and second-hand shops. There are bolts of fabric and chests brimming with woolen rugs, as I have high ceilings and require a few blankets to keep the cold at bay, as I loathe central heating. There are ludicrous amounts of socks, more pots and pans, terrines and moulds. ’Tis always rather amusing finding lost treasures when having a rummage.

Oh, you know, everything. A new kitchen, a new bathroom, write a book, have friends round for lunch, go on holiday, travel to places I have only ever dreamed of, tidy the flat, order the bookshelves, replace the broken blinds…

Cooking: Simply and Well, for One or Many

, by Jeremy Lee, is published by Fourth Estate and is available now

Grace Helmer

Leisure

As he awaits the arrival of a new chaise longue, the Quo Vadis head chef looks around his London living quarters and reflects on the work shirts, woolen rugs and whatnots that bring him joy

A Polite Request

Home Comforts: musicals, Magimixes, mirth and merriment with Jeremy Lee

As he awaits the arrival of a new chaise longue, the Quo Vadis head chef looks around his London living quarters and reflects on the work shirts, woolen rugs and whatnots that bring him joy