INTRODUCTION

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. To think of where I started and where I am now – it wasn’t necessarily a logical progression, and I have my career in food to thank for it. I consider myself so lucky to have discovered cooking when and where I did, as I’ve been able to witness and be a part of the evolution of Australian food into what it is today: world class, ever-changing and, quite simply, inspiring.

My early childhood years were spent on a dairy farm, but we moved to Sydney’s western suburbs when I was nine. Dad still had a small farm at Taralga we’d visit most weekends and it was there I developed an interest in butchery that remains today. Apart from my weekend life on the farm, my suburban life was little different to that of my peers.

I’d love to say I was bitten by the cooking bug at the age of five and always knew it was what I wanted to do, but the truth is I came to cooking by chance, really. It was my way out of school, which wasn’t my favourite thing, and after an inauspicious start at Parramatta RSL, I began an apprenticeship in 1985 at La Belle Helene in Roseville, on Sydney’s Upper North Shore. In retrospect, the day I got that job was the day that changed my life forever. Working in that kitchen opened my eyes to the possibilities of food and I was hooked. Over 30 years later, I still am. I may have fallen into it, but cooking remains a deep and abiding passion, not least for its ability to connect people. I love that Australians in general have fallen in love with cooking too – these days we’re a food-obsessed country.

As part of that national obsession, I’m often asked to define Australian food. What is it exactly? It’s something I’ve asked myself many times during the writing of this book.

As a relatively young nation, it’s fair to say that Australian food isn’t tied to tradition in quite the same way that many other cuisines are; there’s no single dish that sums us up, nor is there a singular style of cooking that can be called quintessentially Australian. As a country, we’re always changing, and the same goes for Australian food. Our population continues to transform with the influx of different migrant groups, all bringing elements of their food culture to our shores, layering it upon what’s already here and threading complexity and diversity into the way we eat and cook.

Aussie food truly reflects the multicultural nature of our society and we’re all the better for it. No longer do we eat meat and three veg every day, which was the way I grew up. We’re just as likely to have sushi for lunch as we are to have a Vegemite sandwich; more likely to tuck into an excellent curry for dinner as have the grilled sausages and chops that were such a part of my childhood.

We like to call ourselves the lucky country, and when it comes to local produce, these words couldn’t be more true. It’s almost become clichéd in Australia to say so, but our food has become hugely produce-centred. From the fanciest city restaurants to the most remote outback pub or your neighbour’s kitchen, this is a shift that’s happened within a generation. Think about this concept for a minute. How many other world cuisines can truly claim such a focus on produce? A handful only.

Our varied climates support diverse crops within the one country, and in our home kitchens we’ve been trying out this new produce, loving it and expecting and getting more from our farmers. When I started cooking in commercial kitchens 30 years ago, there was one variety of tomato – maybe two. Now, there are any number of heirloom varieties, and a simple tomato salad is a far more exciting dish.

The same goes for our other fruit and vegetables, our dairy products and even our pulses and grains. There’s now so much great produce available, so much variety. No longer does lettuce equal iceberg only – we all have access to at least a dozen different kinds of salad greens. Some of this broadening is because of our cultural diversity, while some is due to a more widely travelled population – people saw what was available overseas and questioned why it wasn’t available here. As consumers, we have more power than we realise and have the ability to drive what is available.

Aussie produce continues to go from strength to strength. We produce Wagyu beef that’s so great we export it to the very discerning Japanese market, while our relatively new truffle industry has been so successful we sell truffles back to the French. No longer is pork dry and flavourless, as it was back when I started out – instead there’s a focus on rare breeds reared for flavour and succulence.

Our natural resources are amazing too – our vast coastline means we have access to some of the best seafood in the world, not to mention the fact that with a range of water temperatures, we’re able to enjoy cold-water fish such as salmon, ocean trout and King George whiting, as well as tropical reef fish – think coral trout, red emperor and our famous barramundi. The variety is mind-boggling and it’s hard to believe that back in the day (and that’s only a couple of decades ago), most seafood and fish was sold frozen. Compare that to our fish markets, which boast the freshest of fish, crustaceans and shellfish, and it’s easy to see that we’ve come a long way.

We’re also becoming increasingly interested in provenance – the whys and hows of food production. We’re asking where our food comes from, how it’s been reared and whether it has been ethically produced. These are all important questions, which push producers to do better.

All of this contributes towards making Australian food into what I believe is some of the best in the world. It’s a big call, I know, but I unashamedly stake that claim. We are now the envy of the world and a food-lover’s destination. We should be proud of how far we’ve come, and continue to expand our cooking horizons.

Ultimately, the definition of Australian food is very personal. Someone who lives in rural Australia will have a different definition to a coastal city-dweller. As an eighth-generation Australian, my definition is likely to be different to that of someone who has a parent or grandparent from another country.

My take on Australian food is deeply influenced by my upbringing, my career path, by travelling and by the amazing produce I am lucky enough to come across every day in my restaurant kitchens. It’s the blending of these different experiences that forms the heart of my cooking, and I believe it’s also indicative of the way Australian food in general has evolved. We’re making our own traditions, taking bits and pieces of all the cultural influences that are at play, putting our spin on them – it’s exciting stuff.

This book is divided into two sections, which very much reflect the dual aspects of my life: the coast and the country. I live in Sydney, close to the coast, but I also continue the connection to the land that began in my childhood. Today, Dad and I have a 2000-acre property, about three hours drive west of Sydney, just beyond the Blue Mountains. We have dairy cows, fat lambs and pigs, and have just put in our first truffles. I’m proud to be able to say I’m a fourth-generation farmer.

My life – and the way I cook – is greatly influenced by these two very different locations, so it made sense to me to split this book along these lines. The way I cook when I’m at home in Sydney is different to how and what I cook when I’m at the farm, but the common element is that the dishes you’ll find in this book are very much about home-cooking. Although I’m inspired and excited by what’s happening in my restaurant kitchens, at home I’ll strip it back and simplify, and let the produce lead. The recipes you’ll find in this book are just some of the things I love to cook for family and for friends. They’re approachable, but in the mix you’ll also find dishes that are perfect for special occasions and celebrations. This is the Australian food I love, and I hope you find lots to love here too.