MY details are included in one of those databases where your journalistic girth is recorded.

When I was a PR diva, with various PR agencies, I used to have to cold call journalists and sell them my wares. It was fun when I worked in sailing PR and less fun when I was working in technology. Back in them black and white days, some 20 years ago, journalists were mainly men, and I would lick their ears (metaphorically, of course) to get them to use our magnificent press releases.

So now I’m on one of those databases, when I am cold called I am always very nice, because I remember what it was like having to lick the ears of the grumpiest of journalists and I don’t want to be one of those miserable gits.

When Katie from Papillion PR phoned me and asked me if would I like to meet Marco Pierre White and visit his pub, The Pear Tree Inn near Melksham – and on a Friday to boot – well, quite frankly, I would be a fool to say no. So funnily enough I said “yes!”. To be honest she had me at “hello”. Now all I needed was a driver then I could take full advantage of the opportunity. I manage to coerce my friendly neighbourly photographer, Christo Nicolle, into coming along to take photos and, ahem, be my chauffeur too.

Bingo – that was my plan – a boozy lunch with Marco Pierre White. Did the poor fella know what was coming?

To be honest, I didn’t really have a clue about Marco Pierre White. I knew he was a chef but that was about it.

Obviously, now I know that he is the godfather of all chefs, the Don Corleone, the big cheese, the main man.

I don’t like to do too much research on people as it ruins the interview with preconception.

When we arrived at the beautiful inn, White was already there.

He was larger than life, dressed in heavy fabrics and big wellies, leaning on the table, surrounded by an entourage of women. I didn’t want to meet him straight away. I wanted to thoroughly check out the venue.

I love a weekend away in a nice room, with great food and wine at reasonable prices. I like boutique chic, but rustic and robust. This pub had it all.

Then when I had enjoyed my rare gull egg, eggs benedict, medium rare steak with chips, all washed down with many glasses of Rioja, I decided it was time to meet the man himself.

It turns out he lives in Salisbury, he uses Bird’s custard and he likes HP sauce.

I guess you can take the man out of Leeds but you can’t take Leeds out the man.

  • Writer & journalist Clare Macnaughton’s latest book is available on Amazon worldwide. A Modern Military Mother – Tales from the Domestic Frontline is an honest account of decade of being married to an RAF officer serving in the British military.

Follow Clare on twitter: @amodmilitarymum Blog: amodernmilitarymother.com.