When Jock Zonfrillo was 17, he was fired. The restaurant he was working at in Chester, north-west England, had a Michelin star and a lot more promise than the hotel he’d been apprenticed to near his home town of Glasgow, which offered little more than “f—ing room service and chicken schnitzel”. In Chester he was pushing himself – a little too much, considering the executive chef was “either in the office or playing golf” and the two sous chefs were “always drunk”. The head chef “never turned up”.
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