Angela
Neil and I met years ago when he was a junior chef and
I was running the kitchen at the Connaught Hotel in
Mayfair. He was a young pup, he looked about 12, but
he was always quite confident and chatty. It was my first
proper head chef job and there was a very tight group of
us who had worked there for a long time. Neil became a
friend even though I employed him and we always had
lots of fun together. After four years working for me he
went to France, but we stayed in touch.
Neil was working for the three-Michelin-star chef
Michel Bras, so I went out to visit. He arranged a trip to
Paris, where we stayed in a hotel called Le Petit Palace. It
was not a palace, that’s for sure. When we stayed there
it was so hot and there was no air-con. That’s probably
why we ended up getting together. We were in this tiny
lift and the only thing we could do was kiss each other.
We got together in 2009 but didn’t tell anyone for a
while. I suppose we wanted to see how things went, but
also he’d worked with me and I’d recommended him to
a fellow chef, so I didn’t want it to look like I was helping
my boyfriend. Eventually there was a lot of owning up
to people. Those who knew us well were not surprised.
We tried for kids and it couldn’t happen, so I did say
to Neil, “If this is something you really want, go and
meet someone else. Don’t let me hold you back or in
ten years’ time tell me you wanted kids.” I didn’t want
him to have that regret. Maybe then because of the
accident [Neil came off his bike in 2012 and was in a
coma for five days] he thought he could live without
kids, I don’t know. You do reassess everything after that.
We were never bothered about getting married but
I said to Neil, “If we are going to do it, I don’t want to be
a 50-year-old bride.” I was coming up to my 50th four
years ago and that’s when he surprised me and asked.
I look at some people my age and I think they have
their lives sorted. They know when their bills are being
paid, they don’t miss flights. Neil and I are renowned
for running across airports screaming “Come on!” I’m
probably the worse timekeeper, but Neil will leave a trail
of destruction in his wake. If he needs a screwdriver
he’ll empty a cupboard, leave it all out and not think to
put anything back. That drives me doolally. But he’s so
honest, which is a lovely thing. So if he does screw up
because he has been disorganised, he always admits it.
We’ve worked at making time for each other. I think
we’re lucky because I’m my own boss and Neil’s
restaurant, the French House, is always closed on
Saturday and Sunday, which makes it easy for us to have
a weekend. I can come home and easily switch off from
work, whereas Neil likes to offload and often repeats
himself, so I’ll be quite rude and say to him, “Do not tell
RELATIVE VALUES
Angela Hartnett and Neil Borthwick
The married chefs on tardiness, clutter and why cooking together can be a “nightmare”
me anything else, I’m not interested if a waiter served
the côte de boeuf instead of the rump steak. Go and
talk to someone else about it.” Then the occasional time
I do try to offload, he’ll start telling a story and I’ll say to
him, “No, it’s about me this time!” I don’t want us to be
that couple that sits and moans about their jobs, though.
There are so many great things about what we do.
I’ve got four restaurants in London and three are run
by female teams. I’m all for bringing everyone into the
industry but I like to think it’s the best person for the
job. I think there are more female chefs now because
it’s more accessible and the hours are better. If you
want people to work for you, you’ve got to be flexible.
I didn’t have that when I was coming up, but it didn’t
bother me. I was doing the job I really wanted to do and
I was fortunate enough not to experience sexism.
When we’re cooking at home, Neil and I are big fans
of the old roast chicken and a load of salads. Nothing
fancy, who the hell wants to be doing all this work all
the time? I believe in one-pot wonders.
Eventually Neil and I want to move out of London.
We’ll find a little seaside restaurant where we don’t
depend on it for a massive income and if we want to
close for two weeks to go away we can. Something that
feels like coming round to ours for supper. Neil can doMain: Neil, 42,
Angela, 53, and
Betty the dog at
home in east
London. Inset: at
their restaurant
Merchants Tavern
in 2015 — it closed
in 2020 due to the
pandemic“We married in the church near our
house partly because it was the only
one Angela could make it to on time”
8 • The Sunday Times Magazine