Manifesto

photo of a wooden table with a large pizza, some cutlery and a drink

We eat several times a day, week in week out and I don’t know about you but I don’t always feel like making myself something to eat. I know that I’ll feel better once I’ve eaten something but getting there seems a lot of effort.

I will admit to the odd dinner out or sneaky takeaway when I feel this way but as a competent cook and self-confessed foodie (let’s reclaim this term, please) it can feel like a cop out.

Of course, this doesn’t even begin to address my cravings which seem to have no rhyme or reason to them. When I’m tired or busy at work I’m not likely to embark on a long-project cook. But, if I want to show someone that I’m thinking of them, I am much more inclined to spend multiple hours pouring over recipe books and chopping, stirring and fussing about.

I have spent more than a dozen years working with cheese – selling and writing about it mostly – but I’ve always been partial to dairy products of all persuasions. Growing up, Dad would make himself a small plate with slices and wedges of cheese be it cheddar, oozy white mould or an aromatic blue. Then came the biscuit barrel, an enameled metal of some kind, fire-engine red with a white lid and a metal handle. Nowadays, it sits upon my parent’s bench but then it hung off a hook from the overhead cupboards of my childhood kitchen. I will never not think of this barrel. I recently found one on eBay and the whole experience unexpectedly brought tears to my eyes.

I favour artisan dairy producers whether it is milk, butter, cheese or more. I am privileged to be able to put animal welfare and land care in the foreground of my dairy purchases. I think we all do the best that we can.

Many of my recipes lean dairy heavy cause that’s how my tastes roll. I often think cheese gives the finishing touch to a dish, particularly if it’s light on other protein sources. If you don’t or can’t consume dairy then feel free to seek out non-dairy alternatives or leave it out altogether where you think that works.

photo of a pale blue plate with a colourful fried cheese salad

Many moons ago, I managed a butcher shop so I have thoughts about meat, unsurprisingly. I like to know where my meat comes from. If you get the opportunity to buy direct from a producer or at a farmer’s market, great. Alternatively, I urge you to buy from a butcher rather than the supermarket as I believe you get better quality and also more bang for your buck.

I will confess to loving a pudgy pork sausage and finding the sweet smell of a lamb cutlet quite enticing. I like my steaks with marbling. A thick yellow fat cap promises more flavour than a thin white shroud. Fat is flavour is not just a pithy saying. I’ll start a steak in the pan by holding it on its side, fat-side down to give your pan enough lubrication not to stick. 

Painting is an important part of my life, like my mother and daughter also. I like to surround myself with colour on my walls and also in my food. I truly believe a vibrant dish will entice even the most jaded palate. It feels redundant to mention – but I will anyway – that eating the rainbow of fruits and vegetables also provides an important array of nutrients and fibre. So, it’s a win-win as far as I’m concerned.

And when it comes to recipes – anybody’s recipe – I honestly believe they are just templates. They’re an idea of how to combine ingredients in a particular manner. Don’t like a particular ingredient? Play around with substitutions. You can’t stand green capsicum? Try red or yellow. Yes, it’ll taste different to my version but that’s ok.

Myself, I struggle with chilli. I like it but it doesn’t like me. The digestive effects are just not worth the moments of mouth joy. So I leave it out of recipes. If it feels like a dominant component then I’ll amp up the pepper side of things – freshly ground black or white peppercorns or maybe even some Szechuan pepper to give that zingy mouthfeel. It all depends on the cuisine style.

I do love to double the quantity of a recipe where suitable but have learnt the hard way when it doesn’t work. Like the time I tried to double my sweet pastry dough only to find my food processor couldn’t handle that quantity. I now have that written very clearly on my pastry dough recipe card. Lesson learned. In fact, I encourage you to make notes in the margins of all your recipe books detailing how you make dishes your own.

photo of a plate of pasta and salad with a silver metal fork in the background
FREE RANGING FOODIE

© Copyright Amanda Kennedy 2025