Meet Hannah Carnall, Head Chef at Bench, whose joyful cooking is thoroughly rooted in memory, instinct, and fun. From the first dish she fell in love with making to the moments that inspire her today, Hannah’s food tells stories — of flavour, identity, and the events that make life rich.

And then there’s her nickname — “H Bones Esquire.” It began when she was a baby so deliciously chunky that her dad joked you couldn’t actually find her bones. The “Esquire” part fondly endures — a reminder of love, laughter, and her roots — still appearing on birthday cards and always bringing a smile.

In this conversation, Hannah shares the flavours and traditions that feel like home, the moment she knew this was what she was meant to do, and even what her cooking might smell like if it were a perfume. It’s a glimpse into the world of a chef who cooks with both soul and story.

Can you remember the very first dish you fell in love with making — and what made it so special to you?

We have a family cookbook where handwritten recipes have been passed down over the years: Victoria sponge, Yorkshire puddings, Jack Daniels BBQ sauce (an obsession my mum had based upon a well known Americana restaurant that loves Friday's) and interestingly a pork vindaloo. I always wanted to add my own entry, and after a trip to Greece I knew just the dish - Esquire's Stuffed Squid (a family nickname - Esquire, not Squid).

The thing with recreating a Greek dish in my family home almost 20 years ago, is that I didn't quite have the same pantry as a Yiayia, ( a Greek grandmother).

Alas, I tried my best and my mum supported my endeavors. I can't remember many compliments or any requests for a repeat performance, but I do remember the pride and sense of accomplishment my younger self felt at adding my identity to the family tome.

Hannah Hall, Head Chef at Bench — Hannah Carnall, Head Chef at Bench

When you dream up a new recipe, what’s usually the spark — a flavour, a memory, a place you’ve visited?

I've always loved Mediterranean cooking. Maybe because it evokes all of my favorite things; the warm sun basking on your skin, bathing in the briney azure sea and bougainvillea dappling you in shade whilst you relax into the rhythm of sweet F.A.

Whenever I'm toying with the idea of a new dish, it's usually because I'm romanticising life on the continent, but mostly because I will have eaten the exact same thing whilst I've been away and want to share that moment with as many people as possible.

Was there a moment in your journey when you thought, “This is it — this is what I’m meant to do”?

Food has always been there, but it was never thought of as a career, that was for the people on Ready Steady Cook and dinner ladies at school (of which my grandma is a proud alumni).

It wasn't until moving to Sheffield circa eight years ago and I started eating out more, that I saw the hospitality world as something intoxicating and alluring.

I was working in a very good and stable office job, where my career path was going in the 9-5, box ticking, quotation generating direction, but my sanity was craving something else.

I'd been recommended Anthony Bourdain’s book Kitchen Confidential by a friend who saw the stifle in me. Shortly after consuming the pages of this gritty underworld memoir, a hotel at the end of my road was advertising for a part time kitchen porter (KP).

Thanks to Mr Bourdain I knew this meant the start of something bold and exciting. After a couple of shifts a fire was lit inside me, I knew what I wanted now and I made moves to "quit the day job".

The culinary world can be intense — as a young woman in the kitchen, what challenges have shaped you most, and what have they taught you?

I studied Sports Therapy at university and did my placements with rugby teams, having spent a lot of time in male dominated environments, this new world of macho ball swinging wasn't entirely jarring.

During my first day as KP, I remember being asked to "grab me an onion!" by one of the chefs. Having been shown the sack of onions during my whirlwind tour of the premises, I knew there was two types, so I asked which one, "just get me a f****ing onion!" Wow. Rude.

I ran downstairs and overhead "why is she asking why? Just do it!”

Ah, of course, a miscommunication. I handled this very maturely, grabbed a big white onion and ran back upstairs, handed it to the chef and told him I'd asked "red or white? Not why?"

Probably not the best idea, back chatting on my first day, but I'd always been taught to "hold my own".

However, there is a movement of positive change that over shadows the more toxic work places and misogynistic co-workers. The shouting, swearing, bullying chef is now being shunned instead of lorded, even the allium-demanding lout didn't last long.

I would love to get into mentorship for young chefs or anyone that aspires to work in a kitchen. There's a beautifully supportive community in the hospitality world that needs to be championed, highlighted and shouted from the rooftops.

Are there certain ingredients or food traditions that feel like part of your identity?

Someone I used to work with once joked, "if it's got dill or pomegranate on it, Hannah's made it" - which is still true! I also realise that I've had some form of aubergine on nearly all of my menus, which doesn't always align with my want of using only seasonal ingredients (sorry).

In terms of food traditions, I don't really have any. But I do want to start one. I like the idea of being known for something...there's a living legend by the name of Sharon who makes an absolutely fantastic sausage plait that gets passed around her inner circle every time there’s a good knees-up at Hoyland Common WMC (IYKYK).

I've been the proud recipient a few times, and the joy it sparks within me to see that tin-foiled enigma being presented to the rapturous crowd is something to aspire to.

If you could bottle the scent of your cooking style as a perfume, what would it smell like — and what would you call it?

I like a warm scent, and when I want to relax I put time aside to make a low ‘n slow braised number, the type of which fills the home and drifts down the street.

So I think it would definitely include the comforting aromas of cinnamon and saffron snaking their way out of the oven, the earthiness of olive oil and tomato vines with the sharp tang of sumac and pomegranate to garnish yourself with.

In terms of a name, I'm very much into my greek mythology at the moment. So perhaps "Hestia" who is the goddess of the hearth, home and sacred fire.

If you could share one piece of advice to your younger self starting out in the kitchen, what would it be?

Have more confidence in your own abilities and don't let the sourness of impostor syndrome seep in. Something I'm still working on now, so if anyone has a remedy, tell me and tell my younger self!

In the kitchen with… Head Chef Hannah Carnall.