I am a white chef. I’ve been cooking professionally since I was 15, and over the past 14 years of cooking, I have explored many diverse, different cuisines and cultures. I love all food, but the ones that have grabbed me the most over the years tend to be the ones made by POC. It’s something that I have long been aware of, and that I’ve struggled with internally; the idea that I, as a white man, am cooking these exquisite dishes that come from villages and regions around the world that are so often relegated to nothing more than the ‘Ethnic’ food aisle in the local supermarket.

The thing is, I am aware that I do not own these flavours or aromas or recipes. When I cook them, it’s from a place of respect and admiration; I am highly aware that I am not making them better than their traditional, authentic versions. I love them with my heart and soul, but they’re not mine. I am happy to celebrate them, to love them, and to share them, and I try my best to always be respectful of their histories, and to give credit to their provenance. We must always remember that food is personal, political, and always tied to identity.