To fire up our new interview series Burning Questions, we couldn’t think of a more fitting first guest than our favourite cook, Peter Hoy. AKA, our Dad. Nonna’s is a family business, after all, run by us, Madeleine and Issy – two sisters who are continuing the legacy of our Italian great-grandparents' produce shop. From their humble grocer emerged generations of food lovers, among them our Dad.
Growing up in regional New South Wales in a bustling household of seven children, he recalls joyous and chaotic dinners, and a kitchen full of activity and hearty portions. It’s no surprise his path led him to a career in the culinary world.
Dad has always been a source of inspiration for us, both in and out of the kitchen. And now we can share him—and his wisdom and cooking secrets—with you.
Nonna’s Grocer was named after the fruit shop your grandparents owned. What are your memories of them and of the shop?
My Nonno, Guiseppe Schepisi, traded Italy for Daylesford and later Melbourne, where he set up fruit and veg grocers with his siblings. It was a wonderful way to earn a living, and also helped to feed a family with 14 kids. Those kids, my aunts and uncles, all worked in the shops, learning the proud and passionate style of ‘Italian Retail’. This experience was invaluable, and they each went on to open their own successful shops and business empires.
My Nonno, Guiseppe Schepisi, traded Italy for Daylesford and later Melbourne, where he set up fruit and veg grocers with his siblings. It was a wonderful way to earn a living, and also helped to feed a family with 14 kids. Those kids, my aunts and uncles, all worked in the shops, learning the proud and passionate style of ‘Italian Retail’. This experience was invaluable, and they each went on to open their own successful shops and business empires.
Nonno was a real character; with more than 40 grandchildren, he couldn’t always remember our names. “That boy” or “that girl there,” he would say as he delegated tasks in his family home.
You grew up in a family with 7 children, what did dinner time look like? What meals do you remember eating?
Mum was an amazing cook, and her warm and cosy kitchen in our family home in Orange was my first cooking school. With nine of us at the table, it was a never-ending production line of sweet and savoury bulk catering. We all helped to make it happen. Mum would take us kids to the butchers with her to help carry the load: chopped-up lamb, beef caps and rumps. I remember slow-cooked spaghetti bolognese, roasts of lamb, beef, and chicken, slow-baked roast potatoes in dripping, casseroles, pies, baked custard, chocolate and rice pudding. There were always big glass jars of Mum’s biscuits that never seemed to run out, mason jars of vanilla bean syrup, and confit fruits from the Lake Canobolas orchards.
Mum was an amazing cook, and her warm and cosy kitchen in our family home in Orange was my first cooking school. With nine of us at the table, it was a never-ending production line of sweet and savoury bulk catering. We all helped to make it happen. Mum would take us kids to the butchers with her to help carry the load: chopped-up lamb, beef caps and rumps. I remember slow-cooked spaghetti bolognese, roasts of lamb, beef, and chicken, slow-baked roast potatoes in dripping, casseroles, pies, baked custard, chocolate and rice pudding. There were always big glass jars of Mum’s biscuits that never seemed to run out, mason jars of vanilla bean syrup, and confit fruits from the Lake Canobolas orchards.
I can see the bulging recipe books with Mum’s handwriting, old magazine cutouts and friends’ recipes that sat in the corner next to the old, tireless Mixmaster. There was a massive walk-in pantry, cas iron pots and teapots bubbling away on the woodfire oven, and always a large hessian sack of dirty Sebago potatoes at the ready.
Dinners were always joyous occasions with hearty portions served either on the island bench or our huge kitchen table. Special occasions were in the lounge room and this meant silverware from op-shops and candelabras burning at each end. Friends were often there; they loved our chaotic meal times and joined in on the splashing and singalongs with guitars at washing-up time.
You’ve worked in a whole variety of restaurants. Take us through the highlight reel.
There was Town Chef in Orange, a fish and chip shop that served whole chickens we cooked in the pressure cooker and footlong hotdogs. Springfields nightclub in Kings Cross was bistrot fare with pizazz and was popular amongst the media crowd. As was the Octopus Garden Bistro at the Excelsior Hotel in Surry Hills where I started to get into finer dining.
For the Melbourne chapter there was Fish & Chippers in Windsor, the first retail seafood eatery in the city. We’d go to the seafood market (one of the best in the world, if you ask me) six days a week and serve sashimi, bivalves and more, along with amazing new salads, curried sauces and dumplings. After we sold that, I was invited to a brand-new arts and leisure precinct along the Yarra in the CBD. It became the River Seafood Bar & Grill—a 180-seater restaurant with a daily changing menu, bar cocktails and a lounge waiting area which I ran with my brothers.
For the Melbourne chapter there was Fish & Chippers in Windsor, the first retail seafood eatery in the city. We’d go to the seafood market (one of the best in the world, if you ask me) six days a week and serve sashimi, bivalves and more, along with amazing new salads, curried sauces and dumplings. After we sold that, I was invited to a brand-new arts and leisure precinct along the Yarra in the CBD. It became the River Seafood Bar & Grill—a 180-seater restaurant with a daily changing menu, bar cocktails and a lounge waiting area which I ran with my brothers.
That all led me to open the Chameleon Global Cafe in Byron Bay—a vibrant music venue with a cosy longue vibe. We offered organic pizzas alongside stage performances and live music from travelling musicians who would jam into the night while customers danced. The place hummed. Our stone grinder ensured we had the crispiest, thinnest pizza bases, topped with farmer’s market veg and local seafood.
You spent some time in France. How did that change your relationship to food and cooking?
I went to France to play Rugby as a twenty-seven-year-old; it was my key to the country. My first night there, I ate foie gras in a château. I learned that the French believe the best way is the only way, and I fell in love with this approach. French life revolves around ‘divine dining’. Whether you're pan-cooking blond spaghetti with clams over an open fire hearth, enjoying a vendage (grape-harvesting) picnic with garlicky tomato mussels, saucisson, charcuterie, and a crusty baguette, or dining at a roadside canteen, it’s all so tasty and honest.
I went to France to play Rugby as a twenty-seven-year-old; it was my key to the country. My first night there, I ate foie gras in a château. I learned that the French believe the best way is the only way, and I fell in love with this approach. French life revolves around ‘divine dining’. Whether you're pan-cooking blond spaghetti with clams over an open fire hearth, enjoying a vendage (grape-harvesting) picnic with garlicky tomato mussels, saucisson, charcuterie, and a crusty baguette, or dining at a roadside canteen, it’s all so tasty and honest.
I loved how they took two hours off for lunch each day; it was a time to pause, reflect, and savour flavours, often followed by a quick shopping trip on the promenade. Food is cherished there; chefs are sometimes invited to the dining area to a standing ovation for their dish of cassoulet. There are no exaggerated concoctions, just a deep passion for food. I think this passion delivers strength, stamina and longevity.
Most used ingredient.
Garlic. And so many ways! Roasting whole and then using it as a spread. Candied in confit sugar syrup for cheese plates. Shallow pan-fried with crispy chilli flakes that are strained and used as a sprinkle. If I cook with roasted garlic, I like to finish the dish with a small amount of raw garlic just to give it a lift.
Garlic. And so many ways! Roasting whole and then using it as a spread. Candied in confit sugar syrup for cheese plates. Shallow pan-fried with crispy chilli flakes that are strained and used as a sprinkle. If I cook with roasted garlic, I like to finish the dish with a small amount of raw garlic just to give it a lift.
Who influences your cooking?
Stephanie Alexander. She has a beautiful philosophy and loves teaching children how to grow vegetables and then cook them. She also has great tips, method articulation and ratio accuracy. It’s no surprise Stephanie has coached some of the country’s best chefs. I reckon she should be immortalised in bronze.
Stephanie Alexander. She has a beautiful philosophy and loves teaching children how to grow vegetables and then cook them. She also has great tips, method articulation and ratio accuracy. It’s no surprise Stephanie has coached some of the country’s best chefs. I reckon she should be immortalised in bronze.
What recipe would you recommend serving with the Nonna’s Grocer butter candle?
Crusty miche or foccacia with whipped herb and roast garlic butter for starters. Then for the main course, pan-fried lemony garlic John Dory fillet served with a quenelle of blended roast pepper and herb butter, celeriac remoulade, and frisée lettuce & hazelnuts. And dessert would have to be bread and butter pudding made with croissants.
