I'm so saddened by loss of decorated Ludlow chef and my dear friend Chris Bradley

My mate died this week. His wife emailed, to let me know.

Cracking jokes to the end, he’d been laid low by MND for some time, and perhaps it was a release that the cruelty of that illness came to an end as he peacefully slipped away.

We’d met through work. And, in my case, that’s true of just about everyone I know, with the exception of two long-lasting friends from school.

He’d owned a restaurant. I’d written about his food. Our paths had crossed and our lives became intertwined. I spent more time there, they no longer feared the stuff I might write. We moved along a similar path for some years, until he and his beloved wife moved away from the area, to retire.

He worked damned hard. A guy with a plan, he’d learned stuff at the start of his career, though mostly been self-taught, and worked silly hours to make something of himself.

Chris Bradley, at Mr Underhills, in Ludlow, had been part of a wave of restaurateurs at the start of the 2000s that had put the south Shropshire town on the map. He’d secured a Michelin star at the same time as Claude Bosi, at Hibiscus, and Shaun Hill, at The Merchant House. Not long after, he and his wife, Judy, were named the best restaurateurs in the UK, in the Harden’s Guide.

Their restaurant was full, with a waiting list, and they drove it forward, reaching higher and higher levels of distinction.

There were challenges, of course. There always are. When floods hit the River Teme, their restaurant was filled with brown, muddy water. It cost a small fortune to fix, though fix it they did and soon they were back open, as though nothing had happened.

On one occasion, when Michelin inspectors were thought to be in the premises, deciding whether or not to allocate a prestigious second star, their oven broke down – as though the fates had conspired against them.

Mr Underhills – along with its fellow Michelin-starred restaurants – gave Ludlow more than its fair share of razzle dazzle. It was the most exciting culinary destination in the world. Chris and Judy, alongside Claude and Claire Bosi, and Shaun and Anja Hill, had started a scene that still resonates to this day. They created something special, something unique, something driven by hard work, a pursuit of excellence, and a competitive spirit that drove things along.

For me, Chris and Judy became friends. Chris was forever amused at the number of girlfriends – and, yes, wives – who went to eat with me. Trying to keep up was a challenge, he laughed, while gently ribbing me for my lack of constancy.

There were other times when they were close. At the lowest point in my life, following the collapse of my second marriage and the dismal and chaotic circumstances that ensued, they were a rock. Providing steely advice, listening to what had happened, and offering reassurance, they were friends at a time of greatest need. When they retired, I travelled to Chris and Judy’s beautiful new home, where they settled into the quietest of hamlets, which had family connections.

Chris was vigorous and hard-working, a man who’d achieved so much during his working years wasn’t ready to simply sit back. He tackled the renovation of his new home with the gusto that he’d brought to Mr Underhills.

We visited from time to time, sharing stories and hoping they’d move into a quiet, happy retirement.

It was a sorry email, therefore, that arrived more recently, noting an acute illness and a short amount of time left to live.

Many will be sorry at Chris’s passing. He was a popular figure in Ludlow, a man who gave much to the town and who made many friends and associates. His life in the town, together with that of his dear and popular wife, Judy, helped to enrich the town.

It’s a time to reflect, to be thankful, to celebrate his many achievements and to mourn his passing.

Time marches on, inexorably, though there are the fondest of memories, not just from this writer, who became a close friend, but from the many people who knew, loved, and befriended Chris, and his kind and generous wife, Judy.