Two of Us: chefs Stephanie Alexander and Annie Smithers

Two of Us: chefs Stephanie Alexander and Annie Smithers

Annie Smithers (left), 50, first met chef Stephanie Alexander, 76, when she became her apprentice 33 years ago. They quickly bonded over fresh ingredients, French farmhouse cooking and a love of handmade things.

STEPHANIE: In 1984, when Annie began her apprenticeship with me at Stephanie's Restaurant in Hawthorn, Melbourne, she had dyed blonde hair that was shaved up the side and rode a 250cc Suzuki that resembled a chopper. She was very popular with the staff because she was always great fun.

The following year, I took up snail farming and the snails were Annie's responsibility. It was a hideous job caring for them but she approached it like it was interesting. She did it for hours and hours, and she did it well.

Celebrated chefs and friends Stephanie Alexander and Annie Smithers.

Celebrated chefs and friends Stephanie Alexander and Annie Smithers.Credit:Simon Schluter

Annie is very alternative in certain ways. She announced she was gay at a time when it wasn't freely discussed. At Stephanie's, she was very open about it.

I was really surprised when she told me she did tatting, a kind of crochet using fine linen thread. It was such an unlikely thing for this butchy girl to do. But Annie has great delicacy in her fingers. We both love handmade things.


I had a couple of difficult male chefs but she coped with their histrionics. Because she was so capable in the kitchen, they backed off. She held her own. I have never seen her lose her cool.

After Annie left Stephanie's, she had a couple of bruising experiences in city restaurants. It wasn't the life she wanted, so she moved back to the country.

I visited her when she had Annie Smithers Bistrot in Kyneton, rural Victoria. We'd have a cup of tea or maybe lunch at her house. At one point, in between restaurants, she had a lawnmower round to bring in extra cash. She has always managed. She's incredibly hard-working.

I didn't consciously involve her in my Kitchen Garden Foundation but she knew what I was doing, as we had long phone chats about it. Every two years, [landscape designer] Paul Bangay opens his garden as a fund-raiser for us. One year Annie made 3000 scones to sell. She began baking at about 4am. She is amazing. We love her dearly for that.

The greatest thing about her restaurant, du Fermier in Trentham, is it's just so honest. She loves the craft of cooking. Often, she will bring a full tart to a table so she can experience the pleasure of you looking at it. She has the same sensual appreciation of food that I have: its shape, colour and the story behind it. She is definitely someone who is closer to me in food philosophy than anyone I can think of.

Annie is much better at gardening than I am. She is good at the physical stuff like digging. And, unlike me, she's not scared of chooks. There is an awful lot I don't know about cooking, as I didn't have formal training. I can't break up a lamb – and I don't have any desire to – but if I needed to, I would ask Annie.

Our friendship is a meeting of minds. I can offload to her in a way I can't to my children or friends. Annie understands.

ANNIE: I began my cooking apprenticeship at a restaurant in Malvern but wasn't happy. My father suggested I phone Stephanie's, as he'd seen a newspaper ad for their reopening. When I first met Stephanie, I had a sense of fear. I was 18 and she was in her early 40s. Her restaurant was one of the best in the country.

Between us, there was a sense of hand-holding that was not physical. It was an unspoken understanding of what each of us was going through.

Annie Smithers

Stephanie's kitchen was an extraordinary place to work. It was a disciplined, ordered space. She had a buddy system, where a qualified chef worked with an apprentice. The training was exceptional. She also championed small growers and impressed upon me the importance of market-fresh produce. It shaped the way I do things, as I grow my own food.

I left Stephanie's in 1987 due to glandular fever. She asked me to return, but her kitchen was so good that it extracted everything you had and I wasn't up to it. I stayed in the country for 18 months. In 1992, after working in Melbourne, I became head chef at Lake House in Daylesford. As I cooked in different kitchens, I realised the wealth and worth of what I'd been taught.

Stephanie and I started to catch up. Aligning our diaries can take months. I don't do a lot of social things but seeing her is a priority.

Dad came to live with me, as he'd split up with Mum. He later remarried, but developed Parkinson's and eventually went into care. Stephanie was also caring for her ageing father. We both loved our dads very much. Between us, there was a sense of hand-holding that was not physical. It was an unspoken understanding of what each of us was going through.

One of the great delights is going to Stephanie's house for dinner. She cooks everything better than I do. She is way more precise than me. We never argue about food.

Stephanie is one of the most driven people I've ever met. There are days when I just have to stop. I have a laziness that she doesn't. I can't imagine her lying on the couch, like I sometimes do, watching Spooks.

She has galvanised my love of French farmhouse cooking. We're going to France in September and what I'm looking forward to most is our conversations. Her friendship gives me an ear-to-ear smile. I can discuss things that friends or family don't understand: being female in kitchens, when your restaurant staff give you the shits or you just can't cope. I also struggle a bit with mental health issues. I am anxious and I talk to her about that.

The significance of our friendship plays out when she visits me. She hates cats, so I put mine outside. She is the only person I do that for.

Stephanie Alexander's The Cook's Table and Annie Smithers' Annie's Farmhouse Kitchen are out now.

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