My Story

Like some girls growing up in a Greek home in Australia, I thought I had plenty of time to learn to cook Greek food. Whenever my mum tried to teach me, I’d conveniently vanish out the door. “Plenty of time to learn that stuff later”, I’d say. Famous last words!

​

When my mum suddenly passed away, I was left with a grieving father (whom everyone called "Papou") who also missed mum’s cooking. In true, dramatic Greek fashion, he would sigh “I’ll never taste your mother’s food again”. It was in that moment I realised just how powerful a recipe can be in keeping your loved one alive. It’s a memory, a hug from the past.

​

With a strong understanding of the importance of tradition and family, I was determined to re-create mum’s kitchen magic, so I turned to her sister for cooking lessons. Over the phone cooking lessons with my auntie were challenging, "you just add a little oil" she’d say, but my meals were still lacking. 

​

I then spent Friday nights at my auntie’s house, and this is where the real culinary espionage began. I scribbled down every measurement, every stir and every ‘secret’ ingredient like a food detective.  It soon became evident why the phone instructions hadn’t worked, “aunty, that’s not a little oil, that’s half a bottle”.

​

I’d return home triumphantly, pot in hand, and wait for Dad’s verdict. In his true ‘John West’ style dad would take a bite, chew thoughtfully (the suspense was thicker than my first attempt at moussaka), and then deliver his response, “It’s good, but your mother would add a bit of cinnamon”. Back to the drawing board I’d go.

​

I would tweak every meal based on his feedback, and just when I thought I was doomed to a lifetime of ‘not quite right’, one Friday night when I served up his meal, he took his first bite and paused. His eyes lit up and he said, “Your mum is alive again”.

​

Papou’s Kitchen makes traditional Greek food, the way my mother made it, the way my father loved it, the way she learned it in her little village in Greece. This food is my tribute to my parents.