Before the stadium tours, the Grammys, and the £500 million net worth, Bono—U2’s legendary frontman—was just a teenage boy in Dublin figuring out how to cope with the loss of his mother.
In a rare and heartfelt conversation on the Ruthie’s Table 4 podcast, hosted by renowned River Café owner Ruthie Rogers, the 65-year-old singer peeled back the curtain on the tough early days of his life, revealing just how far he’s come from eating airline leftovers and instant mash.
Life After Loss: Finding Solace in Smash and Tinned Meat
Bono didn’t grow up in luxury. After his mother, Iris Hewson, passed away from a brain aneurysm in 1974 when he was only 14, life became dramatically different.
He recalled returning home most days to a bare-bones dinner—“a tin of meat, a tin of beans and a packet of Cadbury’s Smash,” the iconic instant mashed potato.
Food, for teenage Bono, was more about survival than pleasure.
“To me, food was just fuel,” he told Ruthie.
“I’d rather spend my lunch money on an Alice Cooper record than a proper meal.”
Brotherly Support—and Surprisingly Fancy Airplane Meals
Bono credits his older brother, Norman, who worked at Dublin Airport for Aer Lingus, with helping put food on the table.
Norman managed to bring home surplus airline meals that, to a teenager in 1970s Ireland, seemed incredibly fancy.
“We lived just two miles from the runway,” Bono shared.
“He talked them into letting him take home leftover meals.
It was exotic to us—gammon steak with pineapple, and something called lasagne we’d never heard of.
Rice that wasn’t a dessert, but savoury with peas? It blew our minds.”
A Quiet Grief and Kitchen Table Conflicts
One of the most poignant parts of the interview came when Bono admitted he doesn’t remember much about his mother—not even her cooking.
Her death left a silence in the house that no one really dared to fill.
“After she died, we just didn’t say her name,” he said softly.
“And when you don’t speak someone’s name, it’s hard to hold onto memories.”
He described the household as filled with tension—three men navigating life without the woman who’d held everything together.
“There were plenty of kitchen table arguments. And my relationship with food definitely changed.”
The World Opens Up—One Restaurant at a Time
Joining U2 didn’t just give Bono a global stage; it introduced him to a new world of flavors.
He credits their manager, who had a passion for food and wine, with expanding their culinary horizons.
“We’d get per diems from record companies for hotel stays, but we wouldn’t use them for that,” Bono laughed.
“Instead, we’d drive home after gigs, save up the money, and blow it on nice meals in restaurants.
That’s how we started tasting the world.”
Why Bono Says No to Pre-Show Booze
Despite the rockstar image, Bono is surprisingly disciplined when it comes to performing—especially with alcohol.
He revealed on the podcast that he’s only ever had a drink before a show twice in his life.
“One time was because of a wedding. The other was in Paris in the late ’90s, and my dad had to literally put me to bed,” he admitted.
“Singing those big notes? You can’t do that if you’ve been drinking. You have to be so careful with what you eat and drink.”
From Dublin Teens to Global Icons
It all started back in 1976, when Bono—real name Paul Hewson—answered a school notice posted by drummer Larry Mullen Jr.
The band they formed would go on to become U2, and their chemistry was electric from the start.
Their early albums, like Boy and War, helped them build a loyal following, but it was their unforgettable Live Aid performance in 1985 that launched them into the spotlight.
Then came The Joshua Tree in 1987, with chart-topping hits like With or Without You, sealing their place as global superstars.
Reflecting on the Journey
Bono’s story isn’t just one of fame and fortune. It’s also about resilience, grief, and how something as simple as a tin of beans or a record album can carry you through the darkest times.
His honesty on Ruthie’s Table 4 offered a rare glimpse into the man behind the music—still grounded, still reflective, and forever shaped by those early kitchen-table memories.