My food journey starts as a young boy growing up on my parent’s farm, in the townland of Carrick, co. Tipperary.  Having that strong connection to the land and traditions instilled in me a sense of belonging, family, community, and a strong work ethic. We were self-sufficient growing our own vegetables, raising chickens, pigs, and busy dairy farm producing our own fresh milk every day. It was heaven. I remember my grandmother making apple and rhubarb tarts not forgetting her famous soda bread. What a feast bacon and cabbage was. I can still see the balls of floury spuds that peeled themselves on the dinner table. I remember the long summers and saving the hay, running over the field with the wicker basket filled with bottles of hot sugary tea wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper to keep them hot, a collection of assorted mugs & oceans of ham salad sandwiches and fresh fairy cakes to keep my dad, grandad and neighbours refuelled in the afternoon sun. This was bliss, this was a typical country life.