Jamie Oliver: My family values

My earliest memory is of a holiday on the Norfolk Broads. I was wearing cream and brown Y-fronts and sandals and I was fishing and playing boules. It's a very happy memory, because the Broads are like heaven on earth and everything that's good about Britain in one place – honesty boxes and pubs every mile and being able to drive a great massive boat with no licence. Jools and I have taken our kids there on holiday and it's still the same now.

I grew up in a pub in Clavering, Essex. When I was first on telly in The Naked Chef, people thought I was a mockney, that I was posh and had gone to private school. But I went to a comprehensive and my parents, Trevor and Sally, weren't middle class; they were publicans. That's where my estuary accent comes from.

My dad put me to work in the pub as a young kid to earn pocket money, a pound an hour. My parents had a really strong work ethic that they've passed on to me. When I tried to sleep in, my dad would aim the hose at my bedroom window to wake me up at the crack of dawn.

My mum is funny, bright, full of energy, a bit all over the place, a great mum. My dad was always the stricter parent, but I always felt that he loved me. The only time he ever gave me a hiding was when I left off stink bombs in the pub on a Saturday night and about 30 people left without paying. I deserved it, but my dad felt so guilty after that he bought me a fish tank.

I was close to both sets of grandparents. My dad's parents, Nanny Hazel, who's still with us, and Ken, also known as Foxy, ran a pub in Southend. I used to stay with them in the summer holidays and hang out with my auntie and uncles, who were much younger than my dad. I'd work for my grandad restocking bottles and tidying, and earn a couple of quid that I'd spend on arcade games on the seafront.

My first memory of really dazzling somebody with food was when my mates and I made a picnic and took it out to the woods, which we did all the time. I remember feeding one friend his first smoked salmon sarnie. I'd put a wedge of lemon in the bag and I said, "Wait, wait," and squeezed it over the salmon. I remember his face as he got that combo of salt, smoke, soft bread and lemon. It was like, bing, bing! It's the best thing in the world to make that happen. I like doing that with my four kids now [Poppy, 11, Daisy, 10, Petal, four, and Buddy, two].

My wife, Jools, live in London but we have a house near the village where I grew up, where we come for weekends and holidays. I wanted my kids to have a bit of the same rural life I had. They don't get to roam all over the fields all day like I did, but I like to see them enjoying nature, planting veg and running around. They're like different kids out there.

I think over the years I've mellowed people. When I was young I was more like Marmite. I was 23 when I started on TV and although the recipes still stand up, I was so young, jumping around the place and sliding down banisters. I've done my apprenticeship with the public now. I know that people use my recipes even if they find me deeply annoying, because I think they trust me.