Kay Featherstone and Kate Allinson Its been a little bit crazy. Photograph: Mike English

Kay Featherstone and Kate Allinson were at a Spice Girls concert last spring, just two figures in a sea of people. As they gazed around the stadium, Kay broke down in tears. Not because of anything the Spice Girls were singing, but because the two chefs were consumed by the thought of their own followers; they have more than 900,000 on Facebook. When we go to a gig, its like: We could fill this space so many times! It becomes very, very scary, Featherstone says.

They got the same feeling at Fleetwood Mac. Featherstone has sweaty palms just thinking about it. She and Allinson, who are business as well as life partners, try to forget the noughts and imagine a community of 900, but its still a long way from the days when they had their own restaurant with customers who came in every Sunday and even brought the pair presents if they went on a cruise.

No wonder Allinson, 48, and Featherstone, 34, sound bewildered, if not downright terrified. Their success as the chef duo Pinch of Nom has been sudden. Last spring, their first book of simple slimming recipes sold 500,000 copies in just five weeks (and recently passed the 1m mark). Last months follow-up, Everyday Light, sold nearly 130,000 in its first week, knocking David Walliams from the top of the bestseller list.

It has been a little bit crazy, Featherstone whispers, as if danger lurks nearby. They have had offers for TV shows offers for everything but have declined them all because they are really shy, says Featherstone, although she is the gobbier half because Kate doesnt usually like to talk. (Thats fair, says Allinson, whose T-shirt is emblazoned with the slogan: Introverts unite separately in your own homes.) When I ask if they might choose to meet their followers Im thinking of events they say that they did bump into some once, and you cant say it wont happen again. But it has never been about us, Featherstone says, and Allinson, a sort of quiet chorus, echoes her words. Its never been about us.

This is something of a mantra for Featherstone and Allinson, and Im intrigued by their wish to deny they are protagonists in their own enterprise. After all, many of their recipes are autobiographical. Tin of praters, a bacon, potato and onion bake, is lifted straight from Featherstones childhood, while the entire Pinch of Nom adventure took off when the two went along to their local Slimming World in Wirral four years ago, then began to post their own recipes to a growing Facebook community.

Their personal story is at the heart of their business but so is their disavowal of it. We dont spout about ourselves. Were not that sort, Featherstone says. They dont take selfies; even on their first date, the only picture they took was of a gull. Photographs of them are rare.

Neither of them has ever followed a specific diet; not Atkins, 5:2, keto nor intermittent fasting. In many ways, they are unlikely authors of a diet book. And this, I suspect, is at the heart of the pressure they feel a double bind in which the story of their efforts to lose weight speaks to their community, but also creates an expectation for a narrative of progress. I sometimes worry what people will think of us. Like, why the hell are you pushing a diet book when youre not a skinny minny? Featherstone says. Because its the accepted norm that people lose weight, [then] they do a book. But were still in that process.

In newspaper articles, Allinson and Featherstone are often described as two fat chefs. They laugh uproariously when I point this out. Do you know we have a little list of the things we have been described as? Featherstone says. Fat. Middle-aged. Jolly. Allinson chuckles. We found it really funny, Featherstone says. Then the tone abruptly shifts.

Sadly, it is the way that some people talk about people of our size. Fat is a word that people will use willy-nilly to describe people of size. And I personally hate it, Featherstone says. It makes me angry deep inside

In March, the pair revealed they were aiming to lose 190kg (30 stone) between them. Featherstone had so far lost 44kg and Allinson 31kg. Im curious as to how they divvied up the target. Featherstone says: We came up with that between us. They didnt figure out how much each wanted to lose? Weve never really had a target, Allinson says. Because I think that can put a lot of pressure on.

And we dont do pressure, Featherstone adds. But surely two books in the space of a year put pressure on them? We dont intentionally put pressure on ourselves, Allinson says. Is a better way of putting it, Featherstone nods.

Im curious to know if they have lost more weight since the first book, but Featherstone says that the numbers are still what they were.

The body of any diet author will always be taken as a measure of success. Is that on their mind? It cant not be, Featherstone says. We think about things a lot. Its why were both so anxious all the time We still struggle. Even now. We kind of fluctuate. We have a steady loss. And while fluctuation and steadiness may seem at odds with each other, no doubt those who are sharing their weight loss journey will relate to the apparent contradiction.

Weve always been really honest and open about it, Allinson says.

They have had an intense and challenging year, adjusting not just to huge public interest, but also to the loss of Allinsons mum. Or, as Featherstone puts it: Weve had a great year, but weve also had a shit year. Allinsons mother died in January, the day after the couple told her they were going to publish a book. When Allinson says this, her eyes are wet and shiny.

Has anyone got a tissue? Featherstone interjects. I assume she is asking for Allinson, but she quickly adds: Because Im wearing mascara and I know whats going to happen. Allinson fishes in her bag and passes her one. They happily rattle off their differences Allinson is organised, decisive and likes strong tea; Featherstone is disorganised, indecisive, talkative and takes her tea milky. But the two of them seem to understand and meet each others needs.

They met nearly 15 years ago, having seen each others profiles on Gaydar Girls. But I didnt message you for ages, Featherstone says. When they met, they got in the car and ended up in Rhyl, north Wales.

Within six months, Featherstone had moved into Allinsons family home in New Brighton, Wallasey, where the pair still live with Allinsons older sister, Lisa, and her dad (whom the three of them look after) as well as two cats. Ive been in the same house for how long is it? Forty-five years, Allinson says. Before this one, she lived in the house over the back, which was her nans B&B. I am trying to picture how the house just an old Victorian one, Allinson says must have felt with five adults in it. When they met, Allinson ran her own restaurant, Cromwells, in nearby Irby. Featherstone quickly took on front of house. Food was the driver of their relationship, and they went into work even when the restaurant was closed. I washed the pots. I wanted to learn how this whole thing worked. In their downtime, they watched, among other things, Two Fat Ladies (they have the DVDs) and ate lots of Chinese takeaways.

While Allinson had been to catering college and had gone on to be the head chef for the Boddingtons chain, Featherstone had left school at 16. She had helped a bit in her parents florist shop and did voiceovers at a radio station in Liverpool, but food and Allinson provided a place that felt like home.

The restaurant was hard work. Things came to a head when Allinsons mum, who did the accounts, had a brain haemorrhage. Within a few months, the restaurant closed, as they focused on caring for her. We grieved for the restaurant, Featherstone says. It hit us hard. Next they worked for a Canadian IT company which, if Ive understood correctly, speeds up the internet by using datacentres on the edge of the cloud. It sounds an unlikely fit, but both women say they wanted nothing to do with food after the restaurant shut. In between were months where we didnt do a whole bunch of much.

Then, in January 2016, Lisa persuaded them to go to Slimming World. They began to create the dishes that went into the first book in the tiny family kitchen that, they say, is smaller than the toilet in the offices of their London publisher, where we are meeting.

They photographed their food at the dining room table. It must have been a squeeze, but Allinsons mum said: If you want to do it, do it well. Allinsons dad lost a stone unintentionally just by eating their food. Then at Slimming World one week, they heard another person discussing a Pinch of Nom recipe and realised how far they had come. At that point, no one in the group knew who they were.

Now they have a test kitchen, a team of 11 and an army of followers they are scared to think about. Featherstone, Allinson and their family all eat the food they make. When people are trying to diet, and the rest of the family dont need to, it can feel as if youre on your own, Featherstone says. She knows this from personal experience. At her all-girls school, she was the tall one and the big one and dieted to fit in, but was bullied. The experience of being different hardened me, she says. But I suspect this hardening is a work-in-progress.

I am surprised, when I get home, and reread the articles that describe Allinson and Featherstone as two fat chefs, to see that the person who chose those words was none other than Featherstone herself. I email her to ask why, given how the description angers her, and she replies that it was a way of saying it first Its an ownership thing. I can call myself fat but no one else has that right.

Over the past six months, however, something has shifted; her feelings have evolved. Its not a word I like any more.

Pinch of Nom: Everyday Light by Kay Featherstone and Kate Allinson is published by Pan Macmillan, price 20. To order a copy for 15, go to guardianbookshop.com or call 020 3176 3837. Free UK p&p on all online orders over 15. Phone orders min p&p of 1.99.

Read more here:
Weve always been honest about our weight loss: the Pinch of Nom chefs on their recipe for success - The Guardian