Being around people who have never done the “I’ll just have a salad” routine when they’ve gone out for dinner (how DO men cope with that caper from women?). People who love food are my kind of people and it’s a very comfortable place to be, spinning in the same orbit as folk who can communicate emotionally through flavour, texture and aroma.

I also love, love, love, watching the human dynamics that evolve in this show. They’re incredibly unique to television. Never, to my knowledge, has such a cross-section of the Australian population been brought together so intimately, with just one passion in common. We see uber-confident Gen Y-ers mixing with Greek grandmothers and a guy who lived under water for 20 years. It’s a sociological experiment, right there, and heartening to observe from the front of the kitchen.

Refreshingly, authenticity. It’s not a desire to have your mug on camera that will get you places in this competition. The winner will certainly be someone who arrives in the kitchen with a clear vision of where their culinary career is to head and who keeps their vision in sight as they slog it out through the challenges. Food is a very visceral thing and if your heart isn’t in it, it becomes obvious very quickly.

One of our celebrity chef quests used the phrase, “you need to listen to food as it cooks; food talks to you”. I’d never looked at that way, but I’ve found myself keeping an ear out as I cook, for tell-tale sizzling and crackle-like whispers. The other day I learned this pearl: to tell if risotto is cooked, squash a grain with the back of a spoon. If it displays a white star at the centre, it’s not quite cooked. If the star has split into three white dots, it’s ready to eat.

I personally look out for “light and shade” – contrasts in texture, shape, portions, flavours and colour. A dish should be a vibrant dance on the plate, like a work of art, where each element works to highlight the rest of the dish in a symbiotic way. True foodies bring this to a meal without thinking about it. It comes from the gut. Great cooking should never be too head-orientated.

Hearty, spice-driven stews with a middle-eastern slant – Morrocan tagines, Greek stifados etc. I think this kind of food is best suited to our climate, also.

Anywhere hot. I find warm climates bring the people out on to the streets and foster a food culture that is sociable, to be shared openly. I’ve loved travelling through Vietnam on my mountainbike, hitch-hiking through Greece, hiking in Spain. The highlight is always stopping at local markets and eating local produce. I’m a enoteca/bodega/café - as opposed to a museum/gallery/cable-car – kind of person when I travel.

For some reason gnocchi in sage and burnt butter springs to mind. An ex cooked it for me once, from scratch, and my heart certainly swelled from the gesture.

I’d rather have them there alive, if that’s ok. Um, Madonna, Donald Trump and Paul Keating. Again, I’m not sure why. They just sprung to mind as characters whose earthier sides I’d like to witness. To this end, I’d cook a one-pot stew with root vegetables, cinnamon, couscous and yoghurt… flavours and textures that are very grounding.

Savoury all the way. I eat anchovy sandwiches. And lettuce dipped in vegemite. And dark chocolate sprinkled with Maldon salt. Need I say more??? OK, I will…my ideal dessert is slightly toasted walnuts with ricotta and rock salt and a wee drizzle of honey.

Soft boiled. With chilli flakes on seeded rye.