Rock star chefs, eh? It’s possible to grow your own: take a carton of tattoos, a pinch of talent and more than a few shavings of sheer bloody-mindedness and that’s most of the way to a maverick. Throw in a reputation for sullenness, garnish with an enormous watch, serve in a Rolls-Royce (currently preferred colour: Essex orange) et voilà: Tom Sellers, the man who called his bulldog Boss.
Sellers has long been known for such calling cards. In fact, all that’s required for a profile of the man is to mention these things with a few lines about falling out with critics and a bit on some celebrity pals (“Which one?” he says with a rare grin, when asked how you get to know the heavyweight champion of the world), bandy about “bad boy” and “rebel”, snap him with his fingers webbed in a style akin to Mr Burns-does-Masterchef, and you’re done.
