Kojey Radical's life on a plate: ‘I’m a bad-boy chef’

Photograph by Phil Fisk

My mum’s a banging cook. She makes a lot of African food – fufu, peanut soup, fried yam, tilapia – but also experiments with other cuisines. A friend will teach her how to make something from their culture, like an Indian chicken curry, then she’ll recreate it for us.

After school, if I had pocket money, I’d go to Maria’s Fish Bar in Hoxton. Nothing too exuberant, just chips – or a saveloy if I wanted to spice things up. On the walls are pictures from the olden days; motherfuckers in a horse and carriage, eating a portion of chips.

If you’re a Hoxton OG you’ll know Shades Caribbean food truck. You can smell it all the way down the market street. For a treat we’d get mains – jerk or brown stew chicken – and eat it with my mum’s jollof rice. The combination of Caribbean and African food is my favourite.

When I was 17 my family visited Ghana, leaving me at home. I taught myself to cook low-risk meals like pasta and sauce, but I didn’t follow recipes or consider which ingredients might work together. God bless the friends who came over and ate my trash food with a smile.

Now I’m a bad-boy chef. Cooking from scratch and plating food beautifully is my thing. Recently, I bought a cucumber twizzler: you put the cucumber in, twizzle it, and it turns into loopy-doopy strips. I pickled them, and served them with lamb chops and garlic potatoes.

I love cooking shows. Come Dine With Me is a classic; I’m here for the contestants slagging the food off after the meal. I also like Justin Arthur on TikTok, and my son’s mother, Rachel Ama, has an amazing vegan cookery channel on YouTube. Everyone should try her jerk marinade.

One Sunday I was draining a pan of potatoes and spilled boiling water on my bare foot. Splish, splash, boom. It was right before I co-hosted the Fashion Awards, so my friends had to help me bandage the burn. It was touch and go, but I finished the meal and did the job.

I’d never go on I’m A Celebrity… because I couldn’t eat a bollock. Keep your exotic animals over there. I had an ostrich burger once and it was too much. What made someone look at one and think: two pieces of bread; lettuce; good to go?

When I started touring, no one brought me filet mignon backstage. Eating was about survival, and food from service stations. McDonald’s is safe, but Burger King Whoppers look like they’ve been sat on. The real treat is walking into those magical service stations with a Leon.

Chef Tom Brown, a friend of mine, has a way of making simple food mad interesting. I snuck into his new restaurant, Island, without telling him – the flavours are woah. I ate lamb skewers with clams, mussels with curry sauce, and potatoes cooked in a fishy, citrussy blend. My taste buds were intrigued the whole time.

When I passed my driving test, my South African instructor invited me to a braai at his house to celebrate. It’s a family-oriented barbecue – and it slaps. His son made bread from scratch, we cooked meat and fish and had traditional sides like pap (maize porridge).

My food icks? Ketchup-splashing pirates, and the bandits that wash everything in salad cream. They know who they are, and they hide in plain sight. Also, black pudding. It’s congealed blood – a fry-up from Dracula’s personal chef! And cats in restaurants, on holiday, when they rub against your ankles. Fuck off, Felix.

Jerk chicken. Always from the Shades food truck in Hoxton. I try to make it myself, but it’s not legit.

A paloma cocktail. My favourite place to drink it – TT London – has closed, so I’m dating new bars to find a decent one.

Oxtail soup. I bought a slow cooker especially to make it.

Kojey Radical’s new album, Don’t Look Down (Warner), is out on 19 September. His latest single, Expensive, is out on 28 August

Grooming by Bianca Simone Scott at Forward Artists. Kojey wears Bianca Saunders and Great Frog Jewellery