My schooldays

Where did you go to school?

Honeywell Primary in Wandsworth, South London, and then Wandsworth Secondary School, with 2,000 boys.

Did you like it?

It was one of my happiest times, with lots of friends I’m still friends with today. Wandsworth Secondary gave me a fabulous education, with such a variety of kids and personalities. Along with other kids from our school, I was ball boy at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships for the likes of Rosie Casals.

I was always involved. We used to have reading competitions, which were fantastic and taught you a lot about how to hold yourself together.

Wandsworth Boys’ was known for its wonderful sporting facilities - a "fives" court, swimming pool, athletics pitch, gym. I was captain of cricket, and of rugby, briefly, but no good at football, where my long legs earned me the nickname "the Crab".

We used to fence, and had our own planetarium. Other schools had to reach it via a courtyard ... and got water-bombed.

Did you get into trouble?

We were quite naughty, inventive boys. We hollowed out a piece of chalk with a compass-point, put a Swan match in and watched it catch alight as the teacher wrote.

In winter cross-countries, we would start, hide in the trees, eating toffees and smoking, until we saw the first ones return, when we would all jump out before them for the finish. Great fun until we got caught.

Picking up our bus passes in the school office, we once took some extra to give to our mates, and got six of the best from the deputy headmaster. I learned that if there’s rules, there’s rules.

Once my parents had separated, I had to write my father a letter to say I needed a new school uniform. I wrote: "Dad, I need 3 trusers and 3 s***s", which he thought terrible. If he had shown love and commitment, it would have been more of an excitement writing to him. (It was a different generation, but I wouldn’t dream of not having a relationship with my children, even if I broke up with my wife.)

What subjects were you good at?

Economics, for which I got an A, thanks to Mr Lufflam, an extraordinary man who made the subject so interesting. It’s amazing how much you remember. When teachers have this little quirky sense of humour, you never know what they’re going to say; so you’re taking everything on board. If teacher makes a subject interesting, you’re digesting the words. They should be paid a lot more than they are at the moment. They are the lifeblood for our children.

Did you have a favourite teacher?

Mr Pike, who taught RI, would yell, "Psalm 102!", and you’d race to open your Bible at the right page and read out the first three lines, which won points.

Kids responded to that competitive element, even those not interested in religion understood the Bible.

Daphne Rock and John Vockings were exciting English teachers. We’d have a word of the day, when Miss Rock might say, "Right, Bollington! You’re being impetuous! Does anyone know what ‘impetuous’ means?" You’d never forget that word.

One Cockney kid would come out with phrases like, "My nan’s a cantankerous old cow", as a result. John Clegg, my form and music teacher, would bring music to life, giving brief history lessons on individual instruments. You never forgot the instrument or the piece of music. People like that took teaching to a different level.

What did you want to do?

My mother, a nurse, wanted me to become a doctor. Yet all of us got involved in food, because my mother entertained so much. My father, Chester, was involved in show business, and we had a nice home with a large dining area, so the likes of Buddy Rich, Bob Monkhouse, Bruce Forsyth would hang out with Dad, while we’d be helping Mum in the kitchen. We’d befriended Indian, Chinese, Italian, Greek families, so knew about those flavours.

I’d go on school trips and try all the different foods, like the lovely Austrian pea, bacon and potatoes stew, lapping it up while the kids went, "Eeughh!" After a holiday in France, I announced to my teacher, Mr Mitcham, that I wanted to cook. Furious, He said: "You’re a bit bright for that, Harriott! You should hang on." I’d thought education was about teaching people to be independent and find their own goals.

College or university?

Westminster Catering College, Battersea branch. You filleted your own Dover sole, whereas now you might just watch. Mr Hollingsworth, the teacher, always walked around in a white coat with an intimidating glare, more surgeon than chef.

What do you wish you had learned at school but were not taught?

Perhaps computer studies. Then I’d know what Yahoo! was, and we’d be sitting here talking in my hotel.

What is the single most important lesson you have learned outside of formal education?

Have respect for your fellow human being, whatever their race or colour. Be kind, courteous and decent. There’ll be those that take advantage, but if there’s enough, it rubs off.

• In addition to presenting Ready Steady Cook, Ainsley Harriott has sold more than a million copies of his cookery books. He lives in London with his wife and children. Ainsley Harriott’s All New Meals In Minutes is published on 9 October by BBC Books.