Marcus Wareing: 'I almost died waterskiing'

Dad was always away from home, he had no work-life balance. It gave me a work ethic like you wouldn't believe as a student and hard worker. But I swore that if I ever gave birth to children, I would be part of their lives. Dad retired, turned around and found his children had grown up. I never wanted this realization.

As a child, I was shy, a loner who did his own thing. I went to hotel school, worked hard and thrived. During my teenage years, I pushed everyone away. I focused only on my cooking. I was selfish and self-centered; pubs, clubs and socializing seemed like a distraction to me.

London was alone when I arrived at 17. I hated my drive to the Savoy: the people, the dirt, the hustle and bustle. No one said hello, the city was cold and scary, and the kitchen was the only place I felt safe. Dad was my rock on the phone, but he wouldn't let me go home. He was like, 'Why the fuck do you want to be back in Southport? »

I almost died waterskiing in upstate New York. I was working there when I was 20 when I lost control while on a lake and found myself heading straight for a huge rock at high speed. If I had made contact, the game was over. Somehow I managed to spin and land in the water. To this day, I think about that moment before taking any risks. It taught me that I'm no bigger than Mother Nature.

Being a leader didn't come naturally to me, and leaders don't come to management training courses. I had my own Michelin-starred kitchen at 25, but it took me a long time to learn how to lead a team and a kitchen.

Focusing on the people's mistakes, rather than what they did right, was one of my horrible traits for far too long. I forgot to say good job or thank you, but I always pointed out people's flaws and problems. It was by focusing on my weaknesses that I learned and improved, but most people don't like decimation. One day I came to my kitchen to find that only three members of my team had arrived. I had nearly broken what I loved most, but it took me years to change.

Nothing could prepare you to come face to face with the Queen. Standing in front of her and wishing Her Majesty a happy birthday? It was totally overwhelming. Luckily, she liked the egg tarts I baked for her.

I'm afraid I'll regret it. The idea that near my end, I'm going to stop and think, "Damn, I wish I had done more," fills me with dread. I've worked hard and accomplished a lot, but there's so much more to look forward to.

Every stage of my children's lives is amazing; becoming a dad was the best thing that ever happened to me. When the front door closes, I become a dad, and I love it. Yes, at home I cook, I complain about the hygiene of the kitchen and I criticize the seasoning of my lunch, but for them, I am an idiot to be laughed at. I wouldn't change that for the world.

The secret to impressing a date with your food? Honestly, don't bother cooking. Go to a big delicatessen and buy loads of pretty morsels, then sit down and break some bread together without running to the kitchen.

Marcus Wareing's Tales from a Kitchen Garden is on BBC iPlayer