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I was a happy kid, president of the school at 11, then went on to St Paul’s Girls’ School. I was supposed to be a barrister, because I was good at chat and liked debating. Mum was the foodie. We were always making things in the kitchen while my sister was in the garden.
I went to every outpost of the Roman Empire as a kid. My dad [Colin McEvedy] was a psychiatrist, but his love was history; he sold a million copies of his history books. Holidays were going to see a mausoleum, measuring cannonballs in a castle in Istanbul, clambering over rocks. I didn’t have a beach holiday until I was 28.
It all went tits-up in 1998, when I was 17. I realised I was gay, my mum died and I was expelled from school. Any one of those is a lot for a 17-year-old, but the three of them combined was seismic. I was lost. All the parameters got blown.
Mum died having a liver transplant. She had cirrhosis, though she wasn’t a drinker. Her father built railways in Africa – they think she might have picked it up there. Doctors said that if she didn’t have a transplant, she’d be dead in two years. After the operation she never regained consciousness.
Rudderless didn’t touch the sides of how I felt. I did poorly in my A-levels. My dad said not to go to university because I’d get kicked out. All that was expected of me was lost. I moved to Manchester and sold perfume door-to-door. I was clubbing, taking all the drugs, trying to get away from myself. On my 21st birthday I chatted to my dad about how I’d always liked cooking – maybe I should open my own restaurant.
Cooking saved my life. Without it I’d have been found face down in a gutter with a bottle of whisky. I went to the Cordon Bleu school and found my tribe. It doesn’t matter where you’re from or who you are, you’re judged on how hard you work, how good your food tastes, how well you get on with everyone in the kitchen.
I’ve worked in lots of posh places. I did Sean Connery’s 60th birthday party on my first night at Green’s champagne and oyster bar, which was Lady Di’s favourite restaurant. Then I worked at the River Café, Belvedere, Groucho… It was working at Robert De Niro’s Tribeca Grill in New York, selling overpriced food, that I came up with my mission statement: the best food to the most people.
I’ve been a weirdly successful consultant: for Pret, Cook and specifically Chartwells, who serve 180,000 meals daily across 1,500 schools. I must have had a hand in gazillions of people’s food that they eat every day.
Nowadays being straightforwardly gay is boring. But when I came out to my friends, a few stopped talking to me.
I was given my MBE with snot and tears. I pinned a picture of my parents on their wedding day to the inside of my suit jacket when I went to Buckingham Palace. I wanted them to see their daughter come good. When they called my name up I just blubbed.
My wife, Lucie, is convinced I have ADHD. She says my default state is perpetual motion. My elder daughter had a combined diagnosis last year. It’s helped her. I’m happy to carry on – I’ve got coping mechanisms.
I’m now as old as my mum was when she died. So to not die anytime soon is a big one for me. I keep on top of my health. I like wine a bit too much, but I got off the fags after many years. I have a personal trainer, I don’t have a sedentary life, eat well. I’ll take where I’m at for the life I’ve had.
Allegra McEvedy will be speaking about work, foodie travels and her book, Chefs Wanted, at Destinations: The Holiday & Travel Show, Olympia London, from 30 January to 2 February
