Marco Pierre White vanished. At the very point when cooking became rock ‘n’ roll, the man who created the modern-day British phenomenon of the celebrity chef handed back his three Michelin stars in 1999 and went fishing.

But although he quickly adapted to his second career as a country gentleman, he didn’t find quiet anonymity entirely becoming. So, he has returned to prominence as the star of the British version of “Hell’s Kitchen,” which goes prime time on NBC next month with another restaurant competition show, “Chopping Block.”

And despite the twin traumas of divorce and learning how to become a single father, he is ready to seize back his mantle from his former protégé, Gordon Ramsay, who hosted the first season of “Hell’s Kitchen” in Britain and currently hosts the American version. Toward Mr. Ramsay, Mr. White has, well, mixed views.

“You want to know the passions of a chef?” Mr. White said, a blaze of wild hair and wild arms. “No disrespect to Gordon, but what is his story? It’s boring. What is his motivation? Money. What is a tree without roots? A piece of wood.”

Ouch. Mr. White, 46, became the first Briton to win three Michelin stars, a seminal achievement that heralded a food revolution. But in 1999, he grew tired of “kissing my children in their beds when I left for work and kissing them in their beds when I got back.”

So he handed back his stars and retired. He disapproves of “keeping your name above the door when you are not behind the stove” à la Mr. Ramsay, to whom he has not spoken ever since Mr. Ramsay turned up at Mr. White’s most recent wedding, in 2000, with a camera crew.

Mr. White, meanwhile, is expanding his affordable pizza chain, Frankie’s. He was originally set against television, and turned down the first series of “Hell’s Kitchen,” which made Mr. Ramsay’s name. Mr. White says he can now appear in front of the camera because, at last, he feels happy with who he is.

But there was another motivation for fronting the third season of “Hell’s Kitchen.” “I didn’t like the way Gordon portrayed my industry. I want to inspire people. Since the series, kids have been knocking on the door of catering colleges because it put their faith back in cooking.”

Mr. White says he would rather eat a well-made sandwich than dine in many top British restaurants. “Who would honestly say their favorite restaurant has a Michelin star?” he asks. “Most people like a restaurant where they are well treated. Restaurants should be democratic: You shouldn’t be made to feel privileged for getting a table, or being lectured by the waiter.”

He also thinks contemporary restaurants are insufficiently romantic: His restaurants were infused with flowers, while for Mirabelle, one of his London restaurants, he bought an old glitter ball, “because I kept thinking of all the couples who had fallen in love beneath it.” Alas, Mr. White has spent longer of late falling out of love.

This summer, he has been in sole charge of his boys Luciano, 14, and Marco, 13, as he divorces their mother, Mati. Awkwardly, he and Mati still live under the same west London roof, so Mr. White spent much of the summer taking the boys around Europe, while his daughter, Mirabelle, 6, remained with her mother.

“If you bring children into the world, you have a responsibility to them until the day you die,” he says solemnly. “They are not accessories. Being a good parent is a full-time job.”

But as many a career woman knows, juggling work and full-time parenthood isn’t easy: After driving his boys to boarding school one day at the beginning of the month, he went to Portugal and America for work, before returning for his sons’ autumn holidays. He and the boys spent the summer “rabbit shooting, deer stalking, boating, bicycling, and watching movies.”

Oh, and teaching them to cook. Friends report that the boys can already rustle up excellent pasta and pizzas, though Mr. White insists he will not encourage them to don chef whites. “That was the way it was when I was growing up,” Mr. White, raised in a Leeds council house, or public housing system, said.

“I became a chef because my father was one, just as you might follow your father down the pit,” Mr. White said. “It’s not like that now.”

Life, however, does repeat itself. “After my mother died when I was 6, I spent my childhood following my father around,” Mr. White said. “Now my children seem to be doing the same.”

And there are similarities between running a kitchen and running a home. “I would never hit my children, but sometimes you need to be firm. Whether dealing with children or chefs,” he smiles, “they are all giant babies in need of nurturing.”

His divorce has been chronicled in rich, often vicious, detail through the British tabloids, including his 14 hours in a Notting Hill police station after a domestic disturbance. Mati also accused two waitresses of having an affair with her husband.

This explains the furious reaction of the otherwise impeccably polite Mr. White at Selfridges, a British department store, earlier this month, when he spied a writer as he launched his 96º Tin, a container he’s created to store foodstuffs freshly, such as coffee. How bad has the divorce been?

“Worse things have happened in my life,” he said evenly. “My mother died in front of me: That had a huge effect.”

He took a gulp of espresso and galloped on. “I have nothing to prove. It’s like when I realized I had fulfilled my dream with my career. Then you must move on.” You almost wonder if letting go of his three stars was more traumatic than losing his wife, but those who know him well tell a different story.

“He has been through hell,” one friend said. “And he will say privately he has learned in the last year who his friends are.” Indeed. Mr. White has always been highly sensitive; loyal to friends, but swift to take offense.

A huge presence, he makes no attempt to lessen his effect: trademark hair, stubble, pin-striped jacket, dress shirt, jeans, suede brogues without socks. No wonder he attracts so many gawpers striding through Selfridges’s food court. After taking “four years off,” he embarked on a voyage of “self-discovery.”

He made the decision as he makes many major decisions — clasping a fishing rod. “I caught a salmon and let it go. I realized I was being judged by people who knew less than me, and that gave me the confidence to think, ‘I should be kind to myself and do what I want to do.’ And so the next day I found myself unemployed. It was important for me to understand myself. Only then can you find happiness and fall in love.” Again, tabloids claim he has a girlfriend in America: Is he in love? “I’ve never been happier,” he said, looking away.

He prefers talking about his career, but you sense he uses this to explain his life more generally. “Nothing,” he said, “is more exciting than being a phoenix rising from the ashes.”

Old rivals will wonder: How high can he fly this time?