My story

I trained as a chef at a culinary school in England, but for many years cooked only occasionally, choosing instead a career in journalism. It was much later, following a move to Virginia in the United States in 2003, that I began gardening in earnest and cooking what I grew. There, I also completed the Virginia Master Naturalist programme, which introduced me to the practice - and the quiet joy - of foraging.

The way I cook today was shaped during a very different period of my life. In my final years in the United States, in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, I found myself navigating uncertainty - financially, emotionally and personally. It was a time that stripped life back to its essentials, and in doing so, led to a fundamental shift in how I understood both creativity and value.

What began as survival slowly became something else: a movement away from the idea of scarcity, and toward an understanding that there is enough and that we are enough. Influenced also by the concept of sufficiency articulated by the American social activist, Lynne Twist, this way of thinking is not about limitation, but rather recognising the depth of what already exists, both around us and within us.

I encountered this most clearly in southern Africa, working alongside San communities in the Kalahari. There, food was gathered with care, shared collectively and prepared in ways that honoured both the land and the body. Their way of life revealed a profound interdependence, one shaped by living in close relationship with an often unforgiving landscape.

That experience continues to shape how I develop recipes and cook today.

What I call bush gourmet is not a style, but a way of seeing: a desire to live and eat as close to source as possible, bringing together wild edibles, indigenous ingredients, and seasonal organic produce grown outside my kitchen door. It is rooted in respect - for the land, for knowledge passed down over generations, and for the act of sharing food with others.

This approach has evolved into a body of work that has received national and international awards, following its introduction at The Elephant Café in Livingstone, Zambia in 2016.

Today, here on the farm, I continue to write, cook, garden and forage. Again and again, I return to the table: as a place of connection, of memory and of belonging.

It’s lovely to welcome you here.

Annabel