The Heart’s Compass: How Three Army Utensils Led to AncientGrains63
In 1981, I sat in a circle with my section at 1RTB, listening to Corporal Doc Holliday talk about our futures in the Royal Australian Armoured Corps. Half the platoon was destined for Infantry – colloquially known as Grunts or Turtles because they carried their home on their backs. That was something I absolutely didn’t want to do. The Armoured Corps ”tankies or bucket heads” drove around with kit properly stowed, had access to better rations, and enjoyed a better quality of life.
Doc showed us his tank suit: one-piece garment with long sleeves, big collar for neck protection, shoulder epaulettes for rank insignia, brass zip, and five pockets with buttoned-down flaps. Then came the sliding door moment that would echo through decades of my life. Doc pointed to seven practical holders positioned roughly over the heart area, designed for pen, three darts, and most significantly – knife, fork, and spoon.
Those three utensils seemed unremarkable at first glance, just standard Army issue. Yet they became the catalyst for a profound change in my life, a sliding door moment that would take me in a completely different direction. Those utensils positioned over the heart sealed my choice for the Armoured Corps, but life had more sliding door moments in store.
From Hockey to Dentistry
Through playing hockey in the services -reaching national team selection where we beat an AIS team – I met Darryl Andrews, an old TOBA student from Trinity College, Perth. Darryl became pivotal in another sliding door moment, introducing me to dentistry in the mid-eighties whilst I was still in the Army. Here was a profession that embodied my emerging philosophy: ‘The Art of Hiding Art.’ I didn’t want my work to be seen unless it was a Hollywood smile.
Leaving the Army in 1994, I married Marie and embarked on civilian life. Curiosity about a machine in the office led me to become one of Australia’s early adopters of CAD/CAM technology in dentistry. This expertise took me around the world delivering lectures and training programmes. Each international journey became an opportunity to experience local food cultures – from street vendors in Mumbai to Michelin-starred restaurants in Europe. These travels expanded my palate, laying foundations I didn’t realise would become crucial later.
The Health Journey
The last twenty-five years brought an ongoing health war. Thirteen major operations in the last seven years (from 2019), weeks and months in hospital. My internal plumbing and dietary requirements changed dramatically, but rather than limitation, I discovered liberation. What gets me out of bed every day now is my passion for baking and cooking. It’s my happy place.
Foundations in Fresh Food
Growing up around fresh food established foundations I didn’t recognise at the time. Rottnest represented freedom – freshest seafood, all handline caught, crustaceans that Pop would safely freeze back in Perth. Those childhood holidays were my first lessons in seasonal, local, ethical ingredients.
The Art Evolves
My philosophy in dentistry was ‘The Art of Hiding Art’ – work that should be invisible to others. That’s evolved to ‘The Art of Hiding Art, how the Art is not always seen.’ The art now is how I produce food, the techniques involved, pushing boundaries, and sharing this food visually with family and friends who enjoy every bite. The magical process of cooking has become my guide – time, pressure, method, hot or cold. Cooking connects me to moments in time through processes, smells, failures, and creations.
AncientGrains63 represents the culmination of all these knive, fork, spoon sliding door moments – the waypoints in my journey through food and life. It’s about understanding fundamentals, mastering technique, grasping the basics of how, what, where, and why. It’s about recognising those pivotal moments that shape our paths. Supporting fresh, sustainable food sources and local providers who care for the sea, land, and their produce is key to my health, wellbeing, and the planet.
Seeing Through the Lens
The camera became another way of seeing, another practice of observation. Photography taught me to notice what others walk past ”the way light catches the crust on sourdough, water droplets on fresh herbs, the texture of properly seared fish skin. Photography and cooking share the same fundamental requirements: timing, light, precision. Both demand you pay attention to what’s in front of you, not what you wish was there.
When I plate food now, I’m thinking about more than just taste. How does natural light reveal the texture? Where does the eye travel across the plate? What story does this dish talk about where the ingredients came from, who caught or grew them, how they were treated? The photography isn’t separate from the cooking – it’s an extension of the same practice. Bringing the viewer along, inviting them to lean in and notice the details that matter.
Dad noticed years ago how fluid I’d become in the kitchen, how the movements had become second nature. That fluidity now extends to the camera. The same attention I brought to dental precision, to CAD/CAM technology, to understanding fermentation – that same attention now goes into capturing the moment when everything comes together on the plate. Simple food honestly presented well, photographed in natural light, showing rather than telling.
The Utensils Over the Heart
Today, as I stand in my kitchen surrounded by my utensils, thinking about what I might create and how I’ll share it visually, I’m profoundly grateful for those sliding door moments. I still have that original knife, fork, and spoon issued at 1RTB, carefully preserved in my camping gear in the shed. They’ve become instruments of my destiny. Those three simple utensils – positioned over the heart in Doc Holliday’s tank suit demonstration – became prophetic symbols.
From that moment in 1981, through Darryl Andrews’ introduction to dentistry, to CAD/CAM technology taking me around the world, to standing in my kitchen now with camera ready – those utensils have guided my journey. The attention to detail from dentistry, the technological precision of CAD/CAM, the observational skills through travel and photography – all converged in my approach to food.
AncientGrains63 isn’t just about food – it’s about connection, sustainability, learning, and the recognition that every meal is an opportunity to create something meaningful. It’s about understanding where ingredients come from, supporting the people who catch, grow, and produce them, and respecting the journey from source to plate. Whether it’s Fair Seafood SA providing fully traceable seafood or local flour mills producing exceptional grains, these relationships matter. They’re part of the story that starts with three utensils over the heart.
These sliding door moments with knife, fork, and spoon happen not just on special occasions but in the quiet rhythm of feeding our families well, night after night. Every time I reach for my utensils or my camera, I’m reminded that cooking is both ordinary and extraordinary – a daily practice that connects us to place, to people, to the fundamental act of nourishment. Simple food honestly presented well. That’s what those three utensils taught me, all those years ago.
Follow my journey at AncientGrains63 as I explore the intersection of sustainability, technique, and the stories that meet the plate and make every meal meaningful.
