MasterChef host and columnist Grace Dent talks The Standard through London in her eyes – from her favourite spots to eat to the shops she can’t live without.
On the edge of Epping Forest. I lived in Leyton for 20 years and London since ’96, then six months ago I moved further out to here. I’m uprooted: I still haven’t got to grips with the house, I’m surrounded by boxes and don’t know where my knickers are. But I spotted a wild boar the other day. I’d heard they were there, but I thought it was something just told tourists.
Where do you stay in London?
I don’t need to, really, but I’ve been very lucky and stayed in loads of different fancy hotels. The one that was the most wonderful was the Connaught. I stayed there in one of those incredible suites with a butler who appears at the beginning and bombards you with all those questions to make your stay easier — “can we hang your bra up? Run you a bath?” But I’m a working class northerner, I just felt so awkward. I must be a huge disappointment to those butlers. They turn up for in-room dining with the trolleys and cloches and you’re like: “I only ordered a club sandwich!”
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Where was your first flat in London?
My very first home was on Middleton Road in Barnes Green, in a flat above a builders merchant. The hallway was so rotten that I walked in from Marie Claire and fell through the floorboards down to my waist. When the landlord turned up, he offered me a case of beer to say sorry. I thought it was a good deal!
What was your first job in London?
I was on the masthead at Marie Claire as an editorial assistant, which meant I was really a glorified janitor-come-bottle-washer. I did everything: booking hundreds of dispatch bikes, getting suitcases of clothes to the Congo, dealing with the models, trying to pick up the editors’ dry cleaning with a ticket, 20 minutes before a red carpet. It was a little Devil Wears Prada, but much larger scoop of Ugly Betty. When that came out, I couldn’t watch it — it felt like a documentary. I arrived in ’96, learnt a lot about the class system in London, nepotism, and the media, and went freelance in ’98.
Where in London would you recommend for a first date?
Choose a good local pub so you’re not wasting shoe leather or too much valuable mascara on somewhere. Order a large glass of wine and if it’s not working, just go. The first date I had with my partner was at the Leyton Technical, which isn’t there anymore. I’d kissed so many poisonous frogs, there was no way I was walking more than three streets. I challenged him to meet in 25 minutes, not three weeks time. I didn’t want to bother with Whatsapp tag.
Which London shops do you rely on?
One of the most important shops to me is M&S in the Stratford Westfield, for the ladies who do the bras. Those ladies are the fifth emergency service. There’s something quite wonderful about the fact you can wander in and say, “I have no idea what size I am” and a maternal woman with a tape measure will take you aside — for free! — and help. It’s one of the best things about being British.
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What’s the best meal you’ve had in London?
Obviously I have a thousand answers to this but it’s always ever-changing. As a professional, cough cough, I can’t ever have a number one but I can have a revolving list of things that are wonderful. Right now, it’s Lilibet’s. I went, exhausted from filming and I met Hugh, one of my best friends. I no longer drink alcohol but one of my vices is scurrilous gossip: the maitre’d understood what we wanted and moved us to the furthest table away from anyone else and we chatted from noon till 3.30 and it was one of the best times I’ve had this year. It was an utter dream, why I stay hooked to London.
What would you do if you were Mayor of London for the day?
When — not if — I am eventually Mayor, for the first day it will be a wild mix of wildly draconian practices. Instant five year jail periods for adults riding on the pavement! Five years for anyone making a nuisance of themselves with a loud hailer! Five years for anyone hogging a plug in Pret. That’s my first three policies. Then I’d have a huge party on Old Compton Street, with everyone invited, playing a lot of Sylvester and Divine.
Who is the most iconic Londoner in history?
Queen Elizabeth I, beyond doubt. I began studying Elizabethan history when I was 16 and I never stopped. I think the caricature of her as a virgin queen doesn’t explain how incredibly clever and focussed she was on remaining independent for her own sanity and freedom, but also to protect Britain by not aligning with any other country.
When — not if — I am eventually Mayor, for the first day it will be a wild mix of wildly draconian practices. Instant five year jail periods for adults riding on the pavement! Five years for anyone making a nuisance of themselves with a loud hailer!
Grace Dent
What’s the best thing a London cabbie has ever said to you?
I tend to get into very deep, meaningful conversations with cabbies; most of the time I dispense a lot of advice about women, divorce settlements and the menopause. But once one turned to me and said: “you’re famous, aren’t you?” And three minutes later, while I was still slightly euphoric, I suddenly realised he thought I was Judi Dench, not Grace Dent.
Have you ever had a run in with a London policeman?
No, I’ve never been in trouble with the police, but I wish I could tell you I’d had a wild past, been in women’s prison, had a load of tatts. But no, the closest I’ve come was after flirting inappropriately on New Year’s Eve after six baby chams. But that’s inadvisable.
Where in London do you go to let your hair down?
I’m in restaurants all the time, often with my friend Hugh, who’s one of those people I can eat with and be with whether I want to let my hair down or if my social battery is running low. He’s ok to go any new restaurant, order for me, and talk for me.
Who do you call when you want to have fun in London?
What’s your biggest extravagance?
Earrings; I have hundred of pairs of ridiculous clip-on earrings. I don’t have my ears pierced as I had it done when I was about six — being a northerner — and it was a bit of a botched job, so it put me off for life. I’ve left an earring in every London restaurant…
What’s your London secret?
I don’t understand people getting into queues for cakes, so I’d say the branch of Honey & Co behind Bloomsbury. There are always seats, they have a cafe at the back and they serve the best pâtisserie in their postcode. But I’m built on secrets, I don’t know where to begin. When you want them, come to the old folks’ home.
It’s not a collection but the thing I’ve amassed is very strong-minded, waspish, hyper capable gay men who run my entire life. If you look at my stylists, editors, the wonderful Hugh. I call them the Velvet Mafia.
What are you up to at the moment for work?
I am the presenter of Celebrity MasterChef and MasterChef — and it’s absolutely incredible. We have brand new studios, new kitchens, all shiny and sparkly, and I get to wear fabulous gowns every day with wonderful jewellery, and then sweep into a kitchen full of enthusiastic cooks who are determined to make a mark and let food change their life. I get to come in and eat their food and talk to them. I’m in heaven.
I’ve got dozens of heroes, and I grasp for people who are totems. One this week is Jason Williamson from Sleaford Mods. I’ve been watching his performances recently and there’s such a sense of freedom in the way he expresses himself. He’s about the same age as me, and I’m really inspired by any of us in our fifties living our best life.
What’s your favourite work of art in London?
The Ambassadors Painting by Hans Holbein the Younger. The two guys are clearly having the time of their life in London, and there are so many symbols around them that express ego and folly and vanity and the precariousness of being at the top of the tree. Every time I see it, it’s so grounding — 400 years ago, people were having the same problems, had the same status symbols. In the end, we’re all dust.