José Pizarro grew up in Extremadura in central-western Spain, in the tiny village of Talaván. His family had been farmers for generations and he spent his childhood on his parent’s farm, helping his father produce vegetables, dairy products and different meats. Life in this small village centred on dinner, but despite his mother and grandmother being fantastic cooks, learning kitchen skills from them proved impossible: ‘I knew all about the flavours and the smells; I was always in touch with the food, but not with the cooking, because I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen! My mum used to say “you go away from here!”, so I had to help my dad instead.’

Keen to avoid a life of farm labour, he trained as a dental technician, taking a course in cookery while he waited for this first position to begin. He was soon offered work in a kitchen, at a traditional rotisserie in Cáceres. He told us: ‘I forgot to go back to dentistry. I loved cooking from the first day. I loved the activity, watching the chef creating. And the smells! It’s true that you’re influenced by seeing your mum and your grandma cooking and enjoying it – it was inside of me.’ Now he had found a career that truly excited him, he focused on learning as much as he could. At his next role he met Julio Reoyo, the chef who ran El Chapín de la Reina, a Michelin-starred establishment in Madrid. Following him to the capital, he worked with him first at El Chapín, before being appointed head chef of Reoyo’s new restaurant, El Mesón de Doña Filo. It was at these restaurants that he learned about la nueva cocina – Spain’s new wave of modernist cooking. He told us: ‘El Mesón de Doña Filo was very traditional food, but with a twist. It was all about experimenting – not molecular, because there was no molecular then, but experimenting with flavours and textures. I got very into that type of cuisine and I learned a lot of new techniques.’

A chance drink with an English friend sparked his interest in London and despite not speaking a word of English – ‘not even hello!’ – he arrived in 1998: ‘I found diversity in London. Spanish cuisine in Madrid was not diverse, it was more regional and more focused solely on Spanish food. When I got to England I thought – my god! That’s Indian, that’s Chinese, that’s Portuguese, what’s going on?!’ Despite great efforts to find work in one of these diverse kitchens, his lack of English held him back: ‘I couldn’t even work as a kitchen porter, so I decided to try a Spanish restaurant. Gaudi, in East London, was serving Spain’s nueva cocina as well and I had lots of fresh ideas and energy.' He was quickly made sous-chef, but despite the quality of food being produced at Gaudi, he found that London was not ready for Spain’s new cuisine: ‘People didn’t know how to enjoy proper jamón, proper chorizo. If you don’t know the Spanish flavours, how are you going to enjoy a foam made with lentils? I realised that if you wanted to get ahead in this city, you had to go back to the Spanish roots – back to simplicity, back to quality, back to flavour.’

His next role was at Eyre Brothers, a tapas restaurant in Shoreditch run by David and Robert Eyre; when the head chef left, José Pizarro was promoted to head chef. He told us: ‘They did very traditional Spanish and Portuguese food – I went from Michelin-starred cuisine back to real food.’ He stayed in this role for two years, until Monika Linton of Brindisa, one of the restaurant’s suppliers, approached him about opening a restaurant. And so began an eight year partnership: ‘Monika wanted to have very simple food, even more simple than Eyre Brothers, because she wanted to show off the ingredients. We opened in Borough Market, which was a success from the beginning. Three or four years after we opened in South Kensington and Soho. But I had begun to realise that it was time for me to have my own place. You just really want to do what you want to do. I wanted to make all the decisions! So I sold my shares in Brindisa.’