Horse riding is my escape," chef Brett Graham confides seriously, not understanding why I'm surprised. A chef on horseback? It's hardly football.
"I used to ride all the time when I was young," explains the 2002 Young Chef of the Year winner and sous chef at the two-Michelin-starred Square in London's Mayfair. But then Graham, who was brought up on his father's farm near Newcastle, Australia (about 100 miles north of Sydney), does look every bit the outdoors man.
"It's so easy to get so stuck in to work that you don't have any interests - I realised that I had to do something," he says.
An active and physical childhood spent on the farm means that "something" could be water-skiing, rock climbing and even messing around on motorbikes - ideally all in the same weekend. He's clearly a man of action. Now living in London, he had to content himself with running for his daily fix, but after an injury stopped him training for the London Marathon he has now reverted to one of his earliest loves: riding. So when he's not in service at one of Britain's leading restaurants, or chilling out at home, you'll find him galloping across Wimbledon Common.
The 23-year-old chef deserves the time out. In his own words, the past few years have been "something of a blur". Arriving in London just two-and-a-half years ago, armed with a recommendation from a mate, he secured himself a job under Philip Howard, chef-patron at the Square. And he's made an impression, becoming Young Chef of the Year and being promoted to sous chef.
One assumes that his gastronomic training began early. "I wasn't out in the back yard with Mum picking apricots, if that's what you mean," he laughs. "Going out for a good meal for us was eating at the Chinese for someone's birthday - that was the culinary event of our lives." So that sparked the interest? "Well, we used to get excited at the thought of putting prawn crackers on our tongues!"
Graham has an easy, natural, Antipodean manner. But he quickly becomes animated by his own enthusiasm. Fizzing tongues aside, his culinary curiosity was first stimulated at a local fish restaurant in Australia called Scratchleys. He crumbed 100kg of calamari on top of buckets of fish, then opened about 50 dozen Kilpatrick oysters to secure himself an apprenticeship that lasted two years.
On his 18th birthday the bright lights of Sydney beckoned, and he turned up at the building site that was to become Banc. He approached Banc's Irish head chef Liam Tomlin - who had moved to Australia in 1991 after training in the UK - who promptly offered him a job in what would go on to become one of Australia's top kitchens. (Last year Tomlin was on the Australian shortlist for the World Master of Culinary Arts title.)
Graham describes this period as the most difficult time of his career. Living in a rabbit hutch of a bedsit, he paid Aus$150 (£55) a week rent while earning only Aus$225 (£83). "I was working 90, sometimes 95, hours a week. It was probably the hardest job I've ever had."
The worst moment of his career came in the early days at Banc when he let the mashed potato run out one night. A bunch of food writers were next door in the dining room ordering the special. Tomlin was on the pass, plating up and calling the orders... except that the potato never came. He went ballistic. "He grabbed my neck, pinned me against the wall and told me to f*** off back home to the mines where I belong," Graham recalls.
It was that terrible moment of initiation that young chefs often go through. "Some people wake up, some people don't," he says. Graham obviously did, and gained a good deal of professional maturity from the incident. But Graham insists Tomlin was never unfair. "Everything he gave me grief about was justified. I totally side with the anger I must have caused him that night."
Graham looks genuinely distressed by the memory. But a series of high points were to follow - winning a chef competition with the prize of a flight to London, winning the Young Chef of the Year title here last year, and Howard promoting him to sous chef, to name just a few.
As sous chef at the Square, Graham is found mostly on the sauce section. But in recent weeks he has taken on more of a floating role, spreading his services to whichever section needs him most. Whatever his chores for the day, Howard says, Graham is often the first one to arrive in the morning as well as the last one out. "He's a grafter," says Howard, "and a skilled one at that. If ever there were an emergency and both I and head chef Robert Weston had to be called away, I would have absolute confidence in Brett to manage the pass. The great thing about the three of us is that in food terms we're all on the same wavelength."
It's not just Graham's great palate and "relentless enthusiasm" that pleases Howard, but also his commitment and loyalty to the Square. As the restaurant is rigorously seasonal, by staying at the restaurant for a prolonged period of time - "Most people come and do a year and then piss off," laments Howard - Graham has given himself the chance to learn the kitchen's own calendar and to compare last year's menu with new plans for this year.
For all his talk of escapism, it's obvious that Graham relishes the chance to learn about the European seasons and the produce. He clearly enjoys living and breathing food, and is mystified by the thought of young chefs walking past other sections - pastry, hot starters, sauces - and not wanting to get involved. "They haven't got any thirst," he says. But he doesn't go in for the gloating Aussie spiel either, and confirms that British meat gives the chef far more to play with than what is currently available down under.
Graham believes in keeping the industry, and his own role in it, in perspective. He is philosophical towards the glorification of Michelin and its stars. "My first boss taught me that whoever you might think you are, the customer wants to eat."
He also has some revealing thoughts on role models, claiming to have none. He remembers one chef singing the praises of Alain Ducasse. Graham asked why, given that the chef had never eaten in his restaurants, nor attempted to cook any of his dishes. "So where does something like that come from? Don't get me wrong, I think it's amazing what people like Heston [Blumenthal, chef-proprietor of the Fat Duck] are doing, and I greatly respect it, but I'm not minded like that and so he's not my role model."
Relaxed but serious
He balances this focus with laid-back tastes. He hates stuffy restaurants where you have to whisper, but appreciates the haute cuisine of the Square's own kitchen. In many ways he is a product of that restaurant's own atmosphere, simultaneously relaxed but serious about its food. Similarly, one of his favourite restaurants in London is the informal Thai diner, Busaba Eathai, in Wardour Street.
And if he were to own his own restaurant? He would love to get a Michelin star, but again he refuses to be star-struck. His logic: "I won't say I want two Michelin stars and only do five covers a night. I'm going to see what the customers want first and then see where I am." It's a grounded dose of reality you might expect from a chef who has learnt by his mistakes. "And try to make a good living - which is what we are here to do, really."
With this much sense it is no surprise that Graham has plans for the future. Talking about his dad's farm - "I haven't seen him in over two years" - there is a flicker of nostalgia. He recently spoke to a mate in Australia who said he was having a barbie "'You should come round,' he said, as if I was just around the corner. And I thought to myself then how nice that would be."
London may be buzzy, but he knows that he won't end up in this city. He's a pub man, not a club man. He adds: "I don't have to go out on the dance floor and chew my girlfriend's neck off to have a good time."
Accordingly, his dream business would be modelled on a place, not in London or Sydney, but up in the famed wine region of Hunter Valley called Robert's of Pepper Tree. It's a little French country farmhouse, "with white doves flying around and a little church, and vines running around the restaurant - really idyllic". He also wants to start breeding a herd of Hereford cattle for meat (he keeps a small herd of Angus cross steers at his dad's).
If this all smacks a bit of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's River Cottage, don't be surprised to hear of Graham's next plan. Eyes widening, he tells how inspired he was when he finished reading Fearnley-Whittingstall's book. "I just rang him up and said, 'That's one of the best cookbooks I've ever read.' I'm going to visit in the next couple of weeks."
Young Chef of the Year
Philip Howard is a staunch supporter of the Young Chef Young Waiter of the Year competition, so as a star performer in the Square's kitchen, Brett Graham was an obvious entrant for last year's event. "There were sous chefs from all these different restaurants that I had heard of when I was back in Australia - guys from Raymond Blanc, for example," he recalls. "I didn't feel in the same league as these guys."
On top of that he had to contend with none other than Fat Duck chef-proprietor Heston Blumenthal leaning over his shoulder as he pulled his pheasant pie from the oven and remarking: "You've given yourself a bit of graft here, haven't you? Are you sure you can get it all done?" The answer was yes, and he did.
Graham wanted to create a "wow" factor and, just as he had anticipated, the dining room full of judges reportedly dropped its forks when his pheasant pie was wheeled in, presented and then cracked at the table (with a flourish of thyme and game-heavy steam). It secured Graham the title and one of the best moments of his career.
Blumenthal says that what struck him about Graham's entry in the competition was the amount of technical dexterity required for his dish. "That's what was so impressive - it wasn't just the quantity of what he did, though, it was the nature of his work."
What Blumenthal also remembers about Graham's style of cooking is the way the young chef moved around the kitchen. "He was efficient," says Blumenthal, "and there was no slamming of doors or banging of pots and pans. When he moved, he did so deliberately, which sounds like a funny thing to say, but some chefs move around the kitchen just to make themselves look busy. Every move that Brett made was for a purpose. He was focused."
In addition to his cash prize of £2,000, he recently attended a week-long specialist course at the Emirates Academy in Dubai, while staying at the opulent Burj al Arab hotel.
Young Chef Young Waiter is organised by the Restaurant Association and is now in its 19th year. Further details from www.ycyw.co.uk.