I am very saddened by the loss of decorated Ludlow chef and my dear friend, Chris Bradley

My friend died this week. His wife emailed with the information.

Fully joking, MND humiliated him for a while and perhaps that was a signal to him that the cruelty of the disease had come to an end with his peaceful passing.

We met through work. And in my case, this applies to almost everyone I know, except for two long-time friends from school.

He owned a restaurant. I wrote about his food. Our paths crossed and our lives intertwined. I spent more time there, they were no longer afraid of what I would write. We followed a similar path for several years until he and his beloved wife retired from the area.

He worked damn hard. A guy with a plan, he learned a lot of things early in his career, although he was mostly self-taught and worked stupid hours to get anywhere.

Chris Bradley, of Mr Underhills in Ludlow, was part of a wave of restaurateurs in the early 2000s that put the south Shropshire town on the map. He won a Michelin star at the same time as Claude Bosi at Hibiscus and Shaun Hill at The Merchant House. Shortly thereafter, he and his wife Judy were recognized by Harden’s Guide as the best restaurateurs in the UK.

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

Of course there were challenges. They always are. When floods hit the River Teme, their restaurant filled with brown, muddy water. It cost a small fortune to repair, but they fixed it and soon reopened as if nothing had happened.

Once, when it seemed that Michelin inspectors were in the restaurant and making the decision to award the prestigious second star, their oven broke down – as if fate had conspired against them.

Mr Underhills – along with other Michelin-starred restaurants – has given Ludlow more than its fair share of dazzling glory. It was the most exciting culinary destination in the world. Chris and Judy, alongside Claude and Claire Bosi and Shaun and Anja Hill, started a scene that still resonates to this day. They created something special, something special, something fueled by hard work, the pursuit of excellence and the competitive spirit that fueled everything.

For me, Chris and Judy became friends. Chris was always amused by the number of girls – and, yes, wives – who went to dinner with me. “Trying to keep up was a challenge,” he laughed, gently nudging me for my lack of steadiness.

There were other times when they were close. At the lowest point in my life, after the breakdown of my second marriage and the dark and chaotic circumstances that resulted, they were my rock. Giving firm advice, listening to what happened and giving encouragement, they were friends in times of greatest need. When they retired, I went to Chris and Judy’s beautiful new home where they had settled in the quietest of villages with family connections.

Chris was energetic and hardworking. A man who had achieved so much during his career was not ready to simply sit idly by. He undertook the renovation of his new home with the enthusiasm he brought to Mr. Underhills.

We visited them from time to time, sharing stories and hoping that they would retire peacefully and happily.

So we recently received a sorry email informing us that we have an acute illness and little time left to live.

Many will regret Chris’ death. He was a popular figure in Ludlow, a man who gave much to the town and made many friends and colleagues. His life in the city, along with that of his dear and popular wife Judah, contributed to the enrichment of the city.

It is a time of reflection, gratitude, celebrating his many achievements and mourning his death.

Time passes inexorably, although the memories are the most beautiful, not only those of this writer who became his close friend, but also of the many people who knew, loved and became friends with Chris, as well as his kind and generous wife Judy.