Cooking on this line for almost nine years I've met quite a few famous people and usually get them to autograph a menu.

I've shaken hands with all kinds – Ainsley Harriott, Bob Geldof, Peter Andre, Jane McDonald, last week I met all of the original Calendar Girls on their way down to London.

But my favourite has to be Patrick Stewart because I'm a real sci-fi fan and he is also a complete gentleman.

But it's not just famous people I speak to – everyone who comes to the restaurant I will personally greet and say farewell to.

My philosophy on life is to treat others as you would expect to be treated.

My childhood was spent largely in the hotel which my parents ran in County Wicklow, Ireland, and one of my earliest memories must have been from when I sat watching my mother cooking there – I was absolutely hypnotised by her and can still remember getting to lick the spoon when she was baking.

One of my proudest moments was when she got to see me gain my chef's diploma – I love my dad and everything but, like all good Catholic Irish boys, I worship the ground my mother walks on.

But I was also proud of being made chef of the year last year because I beat 16 other entrants and four finalists.

There is a unique skill to cooking on a train. I'm 6ft 3in tall and about four foot wide but we have to do everything within an incredibly small space.

But you get to know the line in detail, when we start pulling into Retford Station at 125mph, for example, and the train tilts, myself and the other staff have already started counteracting that by leaning in the other direction.

The best piece of advice came from my father and it was: whatever you do don't let the family name be slandered.

My first job was as a storeman in a hotel accepting deliveries of beers, wines and spirits. This involved me taking in the stock, making sure it was all there and sorting out the returns and empties.

The worst part was sitting amid all the thousands of empty bottles in the bottle yard and sorting them out into different types of glass – in the summer months it was an absolute joy having to dodge the swarms of wasps that used to gather.

I was also a roadie for a band for a while – my head's shaved now but I used to have hair right down past my shoulders.

I came to Leeds from Ireland after I got a map of the UK, closed my eyes and stuck in a pin – it just happened to land here. But I absolutely love the city.

I live in Bramley and I think what makes it for me is the people here, they're very nice people – plus there's quite a few Irish in Leeds too. My best mate lives in Bramley with me now and we meet up all the time to play snooker.

Playing snooker is my way of relaxing, but it isn't easy. I usually finish about midnight and after cooking, entirely on my own, 30 meals in the first 45 minutes after leaving London for Peterborough it takes me something like two hours to wind down when I get home.

I'm planning on moving house soon and when I do I'm going to try to get a snooker table in there.

I don't cry very often but I always get a lump in my throat when I hear the Irish national anthem played at rugby matches – I think the closest I've come to crying was when England played Croke Park stadium in Dublin for the first time – and we beat them!

The person I'd most like to meet is Gary Rhodes, for obvious reasons. I've already met quite a few chefs through my job. Once I made an announcement on the train's intercom and afterwards the chef Brian Turner, who just happened to be travelling on the train that day, came up and congratulated me on it. I like to give very loud, clear messages, so no-one's in any doubt I'm on the train.

My first kiss was on my fifth birthday and it came from a girl called Katherine D'Arcy. She came up to me and said she hadn't got me a present so she gave me a great big kiss instead. That was my first serious infatuation.

Something that might surprise people about me is that, in the main, I'm a really soft guy. People can obviously get a bit intimidated by the way I look and I have a fairly sarcastic sense of humour but, unless someone gets me angry, I'm actually really placid.

An Irish joke: Paddy is polishing his rifle at home when he accidentally pulls the trigger and shoots his wife. Thinking she's dead, Paddy dials 999 and tells the operator what's happened. The operator then says: "First of all, Paddy, can you just make sure she is actually dead?" Then there's a loud bang. "There," he says. "She's definitely dead."

Favourite things:
Food: Fillet steak (rare)
TV show: Stargate SG1
Author: JRR Tolkien
Actor: Patrick Stewart
Film: Armageddon
Star sign: Libra