EATING MY WORDS is the book recording my time as Private Chef to Pierce Brosnan, a bulimic model and an arms dealer who shot his last chef. Here’s the 4th instalment of my Brosnan chapter.
Monday 10 May 1999
I called my agent this morning to tell her that I had decided to take the Pierce Brosnan job instead of the Peter Soros one. “Yes, I know. Peter Soros called me first thing and said, ‘Gill’s gone all Hollywood on us’. But he was fine about it and said if you ever changed your mind, he’d be there.”
A nice man after all. Scary but nice.
Tuesday 11 May 1999
It is Pierce’s birthday on Sunday and he has decided to have his children and grandchildren here for dinner on Friday. I asked if he had any special requests (stripper?) and he asked for lobster salad followed by lobster risotto. They really like their lobsters. And risotto. What is it about sloppy rice that they like so much? Keely says he would also love a birthday cake with a carrot cake sponge and cream cheese icing.
Pierce was filming today and came home this afternoon looking exhausted. He announced that he was going to bed and did not want any dinner unless I could find some mothers’ breast milk for him. I presumed that was a joke. An hour later he ‘phoned from his bed to say that now he may be able to manage some buttery mash and sea bass fillets. As it was nearing five o’clock I cabbed it down to the Hampstead fishmongers and left the cab running while I ran in and picked up the fish. Although mixing protein and carbohydrate is strictly against the diet rules I decided not to mention it and let Pierce have his wicked way.
From tomorrow, with the exception of the birthday meal, it is strict dieting for the Brosnans. Today I have cleared all the rubbish out of the fridge and bought dozens of Tupperware containers to fill with healthy goodies to try to keep them on the straight and narrow. There are Pierce snack boxes and Keely snack boxes labelled with their names and filled with vegetable sticks and gorgeous fruit. Keely, who does not eat meat, has asked me to make up boxes of peculiar salads for her such as turnip, orange and white radish to eat throughout the day. Then they can have a reasonable evening meal of either carbohydrate or protein with vegetables. But no pudding.
Keely had asked for butternut squash and coriander soup tonight and I spent three hours trying to get the flavour right. It was just too sweet but I was reluctant to put anything as sharp as lemon in it. In the end I threw in a dried out old lime which had been lurking in the bottom of the fruit bowl and in twenty minutes the soup was transformed from a cloying gloup into something fresh and nutty and delicious. Keely is writing a cookery book and asked exactly what had gone into the soup but I did not have a clue about quantities of ingredients I had used over the three hours of messing around.
After some hesitation I had to say, “Ehm, I can’t really remember.” Which no doubt gave her the impression that it was shop bought. And I could hardly tell her that it was a manky old lime that saved the day.
As I had come in early today to sort out the diet snacks I met Maria, the housekeeper, for the first time. She was busy washing up all my pans from last night’s dinner. I had presumed that a cleaner came in the morning and he/she would be the one doing the hard labour. I felt very guilty that this lady was clearing up my mess and vowed that no matter how much Pierce and Keely insisted that I do nothing more than cook, I would leave the kitchen spotless from now on.
Maria is a lovely Italian lady who was Sting and Trudy’s housekeeper when they were living in the house but since they have been renting it out Maria has stayed as part of the rental deal, as has Caroline the secretary. Maria told me today that her favourite celebrity to have stayed there is Tom Hanks. “He is such a lovely, polite man. He even sent roses on my birthday.”
Maria is obviously very special to Mr and Mrs Sting as she is going to the First Holy Communion of one of their children this coming weekend.
Wednesday 12 May 1999
Matthew and I went into Camden Town this morning. I wanted to shop at the fabulous Freshlands organic supermarket to replenish the Brossie snacks and buy beetroot, apples and ginger to make fresh juices for them. Matt nipped next door to the pet shop to buy hay for the killer hamster. He had not been gone more than two minutes when Boy George walked in. Boy George had not been gone more than two minutes when Matthew walked back in.
“You just missed Boy George.”
“What? You mean Boy George my greatest pop hero whose every song I have sung in every Karaoke bar I have ever been to?”
“Yup, the very same.”
“And I was buying hay for Bianca. Great.”
I think the novelty of owning a hamster is beginning to wear off already and Matthew has realised that Bianca is a liability who stinks and keeps us awake all night with her scratching about and running on her bloody wheel.
I left Matthew and jumped in a cab to Highgate to discover that the snacks and the juices in the fridge had been left untouched. So, were Pierce and Keely starving themselves or were they cheating?
“Check down the sides of the sofas.” said the secretary “I think you’ll find your answer there.”
Someone is hiding chocolate bars.
Keely asked if I could call a certain Mark Gilroy at the executive suite in Harrods and ask him to send over some lion’s mane, shitake, Portobello and trompettes de mort mushrooms for her risotto tonight.
“And how would you like me to send them over?” enquired a very frosty voice in Knightsbridge.
“In one of your lovely green and gold vans?” I asked, sheepishly.
“Not today. Shall I put them in a cab?”
“Ehm, yes. I suppose so, if that’s the only way.”
The cab was £45! How can it cost £45 for a cab from Knightsbridge to Highgate? And the mushrooms were £51! For a tiny box of mushrooms barely big enough for a one person risotto.
Tonight before dinner, Keely asked if I would taste Champagnes with them to decide which to have at Pierce’s full on Hollywood style birthday bash on Saturday. Keely said she liked the pink best and asked what I thought. The pink was the one which I had secretly spat back into my glass because it was sour. How could she possibly not have noticed? “Yes, lovely.” said I, knowing there was no point in disagreeing. Sometimes you have to know when to keep your mouth shut.
Thursday 13 May 1999
Tonight I have had to cancel the 20 lobsters that I had ordered from Dan the lovely lobster man for Pierce’s birthday dinner tomorrow.
Pierce has decided that he no longer wants to see anyone and has once again taken to his bed after coming back from filming. There is a strange atmosphere in the house. Everyone seems a bit edgy and grumpy. Something is going on but I don’t know what.
To be continued tomorrow when Pierce changes his mind yet again about his birthday dinner and all his staff are presented with an unwelcome surprise.
Wow! It sounds like you have a really interesting job. Is it exciting to work for such a big star? It seems like it’s a lot of hard work, but if you’re doing what you love it isn’t work at all. Hats off to you.
I was his chef back in 1999 when he was still Bond. It’s always interesting to see how stars live – that’s why there was so much interest in these posts – and yes, the cooking was tiring but I loved it.