Each month we ask a chef to choose five ingredients they'd want if they were stranded on a remote island, and what they'd cook with them. Luckily the island has a wonderful herb garden and its own olive grove. The rest is up to them...

On the island

I'd rather be on a cool one than a hot one if that's at all possible. At least, it would have to be temperate with plenty of tree cover to make sure that there are butterflies and songbirds to uplift my spirits.

I'm reasonably happy with my own company, but I'm naturally gregarious so I think that three months would be my limit on the island. I would do my best to survive, perhaps I might be able to lash together some kind of effective shelter but I know absolutely nothing about growing vegetables. I've done as little gardening as possible since I was a boy because my housemaster used to punish my transgressions by making me go and spend hours weeding his garden. I think that's given me a lifelong aversion, though I'm coming round to it now, in fact, yesterday I picked up about 3,000 apples in my garden. I think I'd be able to recognise most things, I'd be quite good at gathering but I'm not sure about the hunting bit. I'm surrounded by shooters where I live in Herefordshire. I do a bit of hunting, but I've got slightly equivocal feelings about it which is stupid because I'm happy to cook the stuff. If I was to follow my principles through to the end I'd never cook a lobster or a crayfish. I was quite a dab hand with a bow and arrow and a lasso when I was a small boy.

I'd very much miss music on my island. I'm one of those people who listens to Radio 3 all the time because my job allows me to. I'm quite catholic in my taste really, I like Strauss to Janacek, Bach to Mozart and rock music to jazz. I can't ever sit still anywhere, I listen to music to be stimulated and enjoy the sensual sounds. My second choice for a luxury would be a radio, but cooking would keep me happy enough. I'd be especially good at smoking fish, as long as I had a biscuit tin or something like that. However the majority of my kicks would be got out of spotting all the birds. I'm not nerdish in the slightest bit but I do enjoy nature.

Luxury item

A powerful telescope or binoculars so I could scan the horizon for rescuers and still look at the wildlife.

Drink

The wine I would like is a white Bergerac called Moulin des Dames, made by a clever guy called Luc de Conti. This is a blend of late-harvested sauvignon with some semillon and muscadelle - rich and luscious with limey acidity. It would stand up well to the duck - and I rather prefer white to reds anyway.

Recipe

(with Bull's five ingredients: wild duck, onion, carrot, chocolate and chestnuts)

Just having five ingredients is slightly restrictive, but you don't need that many to make a great roast. What I'd do is take the backbone out of the duck and make a stock using the vegetables, and make that the basis of a sauce with a splash of the wine. The dark chocolate is to finish the sauce off. It gives it a bit of body. Chocolate is quite a nice addition especially if you've got some acid knocking about in the sauce, which there would be with white wine.

Roast wild duck with marron glac¿ chestnuts and chocolate

serves two

1 mallard

1 small onion, finely chopped

1 small carrot, finely chopped

2 tbsp olive oil

1 bay leaf, crumbled

large sprig thyme

4 parsley stalks

glass white wine

10g dark chocolate

4 marron glac¿ chestnuts

Pre-heat the oven to 400F/222C/gas mark 6. Remove the backbone from the bird with a pair of poultry shears and chop into smallish pieces. Heat one tbsp of the oil in a pan and saut¿ them with the vegetables until well browned. Pour in the white wine (there'll be five glasses left, after all) and add the bay, thyme and parsley stalks. Simmer very gently for half an hour, topping up with water so everything stays submerged. Meanwhile, heat the remaining tbsp of oil in another pan and brown the duck breast for 3 minutes each side. Roast for 25-30 minutes and rest on a warm plate in a warm place for 10 minutes. Reduce the sauce to about 6 tbsp and stir in the grated chocolate. Remove chestnuts from their syrup, holding them over the tin to drain, and place on two hot plates. Add 1 tbsp of the syrup to the sauce and any juices that have come out of the duck. Carve the duck in half and pour the sauce over through a fine sieve, pressing hard on the debris and then serve.

Stephen Bull is chef proprietor of The Lough Pool Inn, Upper Grove Common, Sellack, Ross-on-Wye, Herefordshire, Tel: 01989 730236.

Classic Bull is published by Macmillan (£20).