In a storage room turned kitchen at his cooking school in Adelaide, Callum Hann guides me through his greatest recipe. The recipe for success.
Those weren’t his words, but it’s a more succinct way to summarise a 15-year career in the high-octane culinary industry which began with a 19-year-old kid from the Barossa having a red-hot-crack on national television.
It’s since burgeoned into a cooking school, catering business, four restaurants and fan-favourite status among MasterChef Australia audiences.
My first question for Callum was something along the lines of ‘how on earth do you juggle all of these ventures?’.
The ingredients were as follows: a superhero wife, the support from his team at Sprout Cooking School and the quiet retreat of his home at Bridgewater.
What also became evident as we chatted over an impromptu gnocchi cooking lesson is that, added to all of that, is a drive to pursue new things and tackle them head-on.
Callum showed himself to the world on MasterChef Season Two in 2011, during which he placed second and quickly won audiences over with his humble demeanour and brilliance in the kitchen.
By his own admission he wasn’t the chef he is today, but he also didn’t have any of the responsibilities the 35-year-old version of him does.
He returned to that same arena this year, but without the youthful naivety and with a world of responsibilities in both family and business.
“I’ve never felt more comfortable in my own skin and experience levels and that sort of thing,” he says.
“So in many respects, this time back on MasterChef was the easiest time I’ve done it, because I didn’t have that imposter syndrome of going, ‘do I deserve to be here?’.
“Conversely, the first time I did the competition, whilst I found the competition itself more difficult, I was able to lean into it 100% because I didn’t have any major commitments at that point in time.
“Whereas I think now this time around, it’s been the easiest competition, but the hardest overall experience.”
In an industry where a review can make or break one’s reputation, not only did Callum have to take a step back from running his cooking school and restaurants, he could have potentially damaged his brand with an ill-fated reality television homecoming.
“We’ve got nearly 100 staff that work for us, if I go on and get kicked off first and they say, ‘Callum that dish is shit, you’re eliminated, get out of here – it can destroy a restaurant really quickly’,” he says.
“Instead of promoting the businesses, will I actually make them worse if I don’t do very well?”
But as Anthony Bourdain once said, “good food, good eating, is all about risk”.
This year’s foray into the Masterchef: Back to Win spotlight saw him take it to the very end once again, eventually coming in second to fellow SA chef Laura Sharrad.
After some final commentary on the wonders of the small screen, including the time that Callum argued with ‘idiot-sandwich’ connoisseur and global television icon Gordan Ramsay on the pros and cons of cooking lamb sous vide, we found ourselves at the beginning of his story.
His was a typical Barossa upbringing – his dad worked at a winery for 27 years and his mum had her own business selling kitchen home-wares.
As she brought home a myriad of cooking gadgets, Callum and his dad would often be the guinea pigs to test their effectiveness in the kitchen.
“My dad did the majority of the cooking, which is probably very normal now, but 25 years ago, I don’t think there were many families where the dad was cooking more than the mum,” he says.
When I did home economics in high school, it was me, one other guy and 27 girls in the class. All the other guys were doing woodwork.
“For me growing up, it was a very normal, natural thing for the guy to be doing the cooking.
“But when I did home economics in high school, it was me, one other guy and 27 girls in the class, and all the other guys were doing woodwork.”
After a brief stint at his local bakery, Callum found himself working at a restaurant at the age of 15.
He quickly found himself at home in “the rock-star environment” of the kitchen, undaunted by the ever-present pressure that came with serving a room full of customers. Every weekend was a grand final.
“The guys who train for the Olympics for four years straight, it actually is kind of irrelevant how well you’ve trained, unless you go out on the day and do a really bloody good job,” he says.
“Monday to Friday you’re getting ready, you’re preparing food, you’re getting the gnocchi rolled, and you’re getting everything ready.
“But then on the Saturday night, when you’ve got 150 people in the restaurant, you actually have to do it and you have to cook the steaks perfectly, you have to keep the pasta al dente.
“There’s immense pressure, but it also feels like the most amazing teamwork at the same time, as a 15- to 16-year-old kid being in that environment, it was really exhilarating.”
Away from the hustle and bustle of kitchens, Callum attains peace and quiet at his Bridgewater home.
“I can’t really imagine living anywhere else,” he says.
“I woke up this morning and it was foggy, it was misty, but it’s beautiful from my kitchen, which looks out over kind of like a mini forest, I feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere.”
With a passion for local produce – one he has passed on to his kids – Callum says the Adelaide Hills has everything a foodie could ever need.
“There’s so much farming that grows beautifully in the Hills, but there is actually free food if you know where to look, which is kind of fun as well – within 100 metres of my house right now you can go and pick wild garlic, it grows like a weed.
“I’m sure you know about wild blackberries, you’ve probably been cut up like I have.
“Not so much this year, but the previous three years before that were amazing mushroom seasons – in winter you see the slippery Jack mushrooms and occasionally porcinis.”
Now a father of three, ensuring his kids know that food “doesn’t come from a packet” is important to him.
But reducing food miles and supporting local businesses are merely bonuses when choosing Hills ingredients.
“I typically try and get the best quality – which doesn’t always mean local – I’m using this piece of parmigiano reggiano, which is from Italy, because it’s bloody delicious,” he says.
“But the thing about the Hills is that actually a lot of the time, the quality is the best that you’ll find.
“One of my favourite things to do in the world is travel and go and eat around, but every time I come back, I’m always reminded about how bloody good we have it here.”
