The Truth – in loving memory of chef Jeremy Strode

The Truth.
The Truth. Photo: Karl Schwerdtfeger

Jeremy Strode, one of the country's best loved and respected chefs died on Monday, July 17. His birthday was Monday the 24th of July. He would have been 54.

His influence on the industry over his 27 years cooking in Australia is inestimable. His quiet confidence when it came to his spare, almost austere aesthetic, where what was left off the plate was often as significant as what was left on. The gentle touch, the deft knife-work, the precision, the stillness in his cooking and technique that resulted in such comfort and depth of flavour.

Restaurant manager Clara Davidson, left, with Jane and Jeremy Strode at Bistrode in Surry Hills.
Restaurant manager Clara Davidson, left, with Jane and Jeremy Strode at Bistrode in Surry Hills.  Photo: Marco Del Grande

Perhaps the largest thumbprint he'll leave is his nurturing of young chefs, who lovingly refer to him as The Truth, for his honest, no bull approach to cooking. The care he took to give them his time. His openness and willingness to share his knowledge and skill. His kindness.

The powerful outpour of love and heartbreak industry-wide is overwhelming, and doesn't even touch the sides of what's likely to come as the reality of this loss sinks in. Jeremy Strode: The Man, The Father, The Chef, The Legend, The Truth.

MYFFY RIGBY

I will spend the rest of my life missing him and trying to reconcile how much pain he must have been in that he could leave us like this. I need all of you to help keep him alive for me.

Jane Strode

The tributes

Jane Strode, Bistrode CBD, Sydney

I fell in love with Jez's food long before I had even met him. Eating at Pomme I knew I had to work for him. No one respected ingredients quite like he did. He intuitively knew when to stop putting something else on the plate, letting everything else breathe. He was passionate about the environment and was banging on about seasonality and sustainability years before it became trendy. He simply couldn't eat at a restaurant if it was serving tomatoes in winter or asparagus from Peru. It took a long time to become friends and we were falling in love with each other so slowly neither of us realised. And it was a crazy, powerful enormous love that was big enough to get us through the hard times that would follow. We had so many incredible, exciting, fun times together. Bringing Hunter and Nathaniel into the world and watching them turn into the gorgeous boys they are now, travelling, running our little Bistrode together and eating so much food. This industry was Jeremy's whole world. He lived and breathed it. And when he discovered Instagram it was like fanning a fire. To be connected instantly to the rest of the food world and to share his experiences became an obsession. It was pretty f------ annoying at times! I will spend the rest of my life missing him and trying to reconcile how much pain he must have been in that he could leave us like this. I need all of you to help keep him alive for me and especially for Max, Hunter and Nathaniel.

Max Dowzer-Strode, Melbourne

No words can adequately express the man that Dad was or how distraught I am that he is gone. While heartbroken, I take solace in the fact that he inspired so many people and brought them such joy with his exquisite food and infectious energy. Dad's love and respect for produce and dining was constantly on display and approached with a unique and tremendous excitement. Watching his face light up when he talked about food, from an individual ingredient to the revered work of a fellow chef, drew you in and made you feel equally as passionate. Unsurprisingly, this zeal resulted in remarkable achievements and an enduring legacy. Dad was honest about his mental health and encouraged people to seek support and ask others if they were OK. Please learn from Dad and this tragic event.

Virginia Dowzer, stylist, Melbourne

Jeremy and I met and fell in love in London in the late 1980s. They were heady and glamorous days. We were young, living in one of the greatest cities on earth. He was the head chef of the Belvedere in Holland Park and I worked on a magazine. We moved from London to Melbourne to have our son Max in 1992. It was a terrible shock for Jeremy, he didn't understand the kitchen culture in Australia, a place where waiters went surfing if the waves were good, staff turned up when they felt like it, good chefs cooked with chillis. Even in this lackadaisical environment, his dedication to his craft was unwavering. He set about educating staff and passing on his skills and knowledge with determination and precision – at some point they listened and mentoring became one of his greatest joys. Jeremy suffered from depression, yes, but he was also many other things. A loving son, husband, father, uncle, brother, friend, he had a beautiful mind, he had a kind heart, he had a radiant energy. I am one of the many broken hearted, the only comfort is in knowing he may now be resting in peace.

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Daphne Jordan, mother; Toby Strode, brother; Mary Strode, sister-in-law; Rebecca Strode, sister, UK

These are words we never thought we would have to write. The loss of Jeremy will stay with us always but we take comfort from knowing he was an exceptional gift to the world and our family. In his relatively short life he achieved so much, not just creatively but as a remarkable human being. Our memory of our perfect afternoon at Heathrow [recently] is living proof of the joy he brought to us. We know absolutely that Jeremy loved us as much as a son and brother could, and we hope he knows how incredibly proud we all are of all that he achieved. When you read this, we ask that you don't think of Jeremy's last 25 minutes, but his last 25 years in Australia, and pray with us that he is finally at peace. Take our love, thoughts and blessings with you always.

Sam Christie, Longrain and the Apollo, Sydney, Melbourne and Japan

As soon as I met Jeremy I really liked his quiet, thoughtful demeanour. He had a slightly absurd yet dry and very English sense of humour which I loved. To me he was a very gentle soul, so on the couple of occasions that I saw him losing his shit behind the pass I couldn't stop smiling and laughing at him. Having opened Longrain Melbourne, I knew how it felt to be new on the scene in a new city with a reputation from interstate. People like Simon Denton, Matt McConnell and Jo Gamvros amongst many others made me feel very welcome in Melbourne and I wanted to give Jeremy the same welcome to Sydney. To us all the whole Melbourne versus Sydney thing never registered - we loved both cities. Over the years I used to dine at Bistrode in Surry Hills every other week. I loved the food he was cooking there. It was in a way the antithesis of the food I ate all the time at Longrain; Pared back, simple, clean and robust. After service we would often hang around, long after the last customer had left. That was when Jane and Jeremy were living upstairs above the restaurant - we ended up calling their place Jane's Bar. One of the spare bedrooms was the wine cellar for the restaurant and while the girls were talking, Jeremy and I would saunter in there and he'd let me choose any bottle I wanted to. Typical Jez generosity. Jane and her family are total movie nuts and much to Jeremy's horror every year Jane would organise an Oscars Party. Fancy dress was mandatory and we all came dressed in the theme of that year's nominations. I remember one year they converted their living room into an plane cabin and Jane and Jez served us dinner in airline food boxes with a plastic knives and those hideous little salt and pepper shakers. The solo vegetarian even got their meal first. Going on holidays with Jezza was a chance for me to cook instead of him, he would relax and read. But he loved doing the dishes. Very strange for a chef. But we would always wash up. It was bizarre. I will always be there for his boys as will of all of Jeremy's friends and colleagues, they are blessed to have Jane and her amazing family.

Karen Martini, Mr Wolf, Melbourne

Jeremy was a chef's chef, a master of his craft. From the moment he arrived on Melbourne's food scene, he was an inspiration to so many young chefs, to so many chefs of all levels. There was a purity, a simplicity about Jeremy's food that was a revelation. This began with his spare but almost poetic menu listings. Three or four words, just the key flavours and ingredients. Any more than this and it just wouldn't be Jeremy's food. There was no fuss, nothing unnecessary, produce first – a rare, beautiful and delicious mix of confidence and humility. And this was 25 years ago – he was so far ahead of his time. As a young head chef, his cooking instantly made an immense impression on me. It was simple, yes, but it was also incredibly technical and layered. He had an amazing gift with fish, and his use of secondary cuts was a bit revolutionary back then. I followed him and ate wherever he cooked: The George Hotel, The Adelphi, Pomme, Langtons and later in Sydney where he found his new home. That's Jeremy the cook, but he was so much more than that to so many people. He truly was a lovely guy, warm, generous and respectful. He was friend and mentor to so many. He took the time, shared his knowledge and passed on the technique and spirit of a great cook to peers and apprentices alike. And all done with that cheeky Strode smile. Jeremy, you will be so sorely missed, but your influence runs deep, both as a cook and as a human being.

Strode in 2002, during his MG Garage days.
Strode in 2002, during his MG Garage days. Photo: Quentin Jones

Ian Curley, the European Group, Melbourne

I could fill in his resume for you but his time at Koffman's and the Waterside Inn were his biggest challenges. I think if you could ask Jeremy he would say that was the toughest kitchen he worked in. I worked with him 30 years ago when were both at the Hyatt Carlton tower in London. When he came to Australia I was thrilled. I was there when we met Ronnie Di Stasio and Donlevy Fitzpatrick to do the deal to take him to the George. At that time his daube and brandade and smoked eel were, and still are, some of the best dishes to have come out of Melbourne. The place suited him, and living upstairs was amazing and he seemed to have it all going on. But always there was self doubt. The highs, the lows - one day he would call you and congratulate you on a good review or dinner he had in your place, and he would be an amazing friend who would thank you for being in his life, and other days he was distant and you just knew he was not really listening to you. I will miss him in my life - especially once you have been in an industry like ours for 30 years. With someone who has walked the road with you it's almost unimaginable how I am going to feel without him around. I could go on about him being the best cook I ever worked with but it's all way too late now. When I got to Australia 25 years ago, inside my suitcase was a postcard saying he was thinking of me and to this day I still have that card. It's my turn to think of him.

Dan Hong, Mr Wong and Ms G's, Sydney

I remember working as an apprentice at Marque, while Jeremy was running MG Garage across the road. I knew he was doing Pierre Koffmann's famous stuffed pig's trotter. The sous chef of MG was going out with the pastry chef at Marque. And I found out every Saturday if they had any pig's trotters left over, they would throw them out, so I would ask for them. It was my first time being exposed to Jeremy's cuisine and it was life-changing.

Pierre Koffmann, Koffmann's, London

I remember when Jeremy came to work with me at La Tante Claire all those years ago. He was a very sweet person, always smiling and wanting to do well. It was a pleasure to have him in my kitchen. He'd come from Le Gavroche and he wanted to learn and to improve, though he was already a talented chef. His cooking was very precise. After that, he went on to open the Belvedere in Holland Park, which was a very good restaurant. More recently, I've followed him on Instagram, though it is many years since we've met. The last time was when I went to Sydney and he cooked for me at MG Garage. He served me a pig's trotter and it was perfect. It was sweet of him, though it is a sad memory now.

Jeremy Strode celebrating his 10th anniversary at Langtons.
Jeremy Strode celebrating his 10th anniversary at Langtons. Photo: Michael Clayton Jones

Mark Hix, HIX Restaurants, London

My first job in London was at the Grosvenor House cooking in the Ninety Park Lane restaurant. Jeremy and I immediately hit it off together, partly because we were West Country lads, still a bit green and we had similar interests: partying, music and girls and a sarcastic sense of humour. We ended up competing in a culinary competition called the Commis Chaine de Rotisseurs. That was the first and last cookery competition I ever entered but we certainly had a few beers afterwards to celebrate my victory. I think we ended up in a club till 4am and he slept on my sofa. When I woke up on Monday morning to hear the sad news, lots of happy memories flooded back into my head along with anger and torment as to why Jezza had done this to Jane and all of the family and all his mates and ended his own life.

Michael Lambie, the Smith, Melbourne

Strode was one of the original Brit pack of the mid '90s. When I arrived in 1994, Jeremy was the first chef to contact me and wish me the best on my appointment as head chef at the Stokehouse, St Kilda. A true gentlemen, fantastic cook, great friend and rival.

Colin Fassnidge, 4Fourteen, Sydney

Jezza, I cried myself to sleep knowing you, my dear friend, would never read this and tell me to "shut up" as you give me one of the warm hugs you always greeted me with. I loved to sit and listen to your enthusiasm for cooking and our industry, your ongoing thirst for knowledge, your passion for the struggles and pain we don't talk about. I sit and am proud to be your friend. You open up your own pain for the greater good of the rest of us. You were my shoulder to cry on, the hand that picked me back up when I fell, the mentor, the chef's chef, craftsman, the pencil behind the ear, a warm caring generous man. I am angry I can't tell you this to your face. A little piece of me has gone with you. I am blessed to have had you in my life. Farewell my beautiful friend, love Fass.

Strode in his kitchen at Pomme.
Strode in his kitchen at Pomme. Photo: Robert Banks

Paul Wilson, Wilson and Market, Melbourne

Jeremy was a humble genius of a chef. His legacy will live on through the food of so many wonderful Australian chefs. His obvious skill and humility touched everyone. I feel so thankful to have lived and laughed with this culinary giant of my lifetime.

Ben Shewry, Attica, Melbourne

Dear Jeremy, I feel whatever words I write won't do justice to the chef and friend you were. So I'll write about a small thing, something you may not know ever occurred and something we never talked about. In 2002 I had moved to Australia and was working at Luxe in St Kilda, I was 25 years old and was kicking a soccer ball against the wall of an car park beneath the restaurant when you appeared to visit my then-head chef Leigh Dundas. I was in awe of you and was embarrassed to introduce myself, but you approached and were so kind to me, introducing yourself and asking what position I held in the restaurant and where I'd come from. Over the years as we became friends I learned that these small acts of kindness where intrinsically you. It's been said that a person's character is more important than their reputation and certainly it's more important than one's cooking ability but in our world of hospitality you had an overwhelming abundance of all these qualities.

Jane Hyland, 4Fourteen, Sydney

For Jeremy it was all about the food, precious little time for politics, fads or trends. Food and flavour are what was important to him and also the next generation. He loved and was proud of seeing other chefs being successful in whatever they chose to do. Last time we met up was over a spontaneous dinner at Monopole last December. We got talking about holidays and what each family was up to. He was so excited about his stage at Brae I was like, "Jeremy do ya not want to sit by a pool somewhere and read a good book?" Nah, not for him. A few days in the kitchen at Brae, he didn't care if he was picking herbs in the back somewhere he just wanted to absorb it all.

Strode at Langtons.
Strode at Langtons. Photo: Eddie Jim

Dan Hunter, Brae, Birregurra

Jezza, we go back a long way. You were my first real mentor and you're my oldest friend in this game. You weren't the easiest mate to have, mind you. Random texts at random times, messages left that made little sense and many conversations where you spat out questions but never listened. When you got on an idea it was hard to get a word in. I enjoyed all of these moments though and now I'll cherish them. You had down times though, and it was always worrying to see you flat and melancholy. Did you understand your flaws? Is that why you were so open and ready to celebrate everyone you met? Always so accepting of the differences between people and as a chef so open to praise and see good in other cooks? I used to love listening to how much you enjoyed whatever meal you just ate at whatever place – it was rare that you ever mentioned that you didn't like something. F---, you loved restaurants and really were the glue that bound many of us from different schools together. I don't know of another chef in Australia who has had such an impact from a three-hat level to fish and chips. Thanks for the lessons early on Jez. Thanks for letting me cut the fish, for insisting we do thing the long way, for not buying pre-mixed leaves, for folding every Chux neatly, for using olive oil in the butter days. And thanks for being so open and telling me how proud of me you were as I progressed on my own path. Jezza, your intellect, wit and generosity extend far and wide from the kitchen but your absence will leave a gaping hole for many of us. I miss you already, I hope you've found peace.

Pat Nourse, Australian Gourmet Traveller

I asked him how he did it, once – how he got it so right so consistently. "I just put three things on the plate," he said, "and if it doesn't work it's because one of the things isn't good enough." I suppose that makes it sound easier than it is, not least when we're talking about a someone so technically proficient he could bone an oxtail with his eyes closed, but that plain-spoken humility and economy of gesture was always a refreshing contrast to all the ego and showboating in the trade. I can't say I knew Jeremy well personally, but speaking as one of the many diners who took great pleasure in his work over many years, I look back on our conversations with fondness. I'll miss him.

Maurice Terzini, Icebergs Dining Room and Bar, Sydney and Da Maria, Bali

I first meet Jeremy cooking at the George where this incredible, unknown (to me) English man was doing his thing French/English provincial food. It was the simple flavours I grew up with, and the dining room was a true Melbourne bistro - casually elegant. The combination of Jeremy Strode and Donlevy Fitzpatrick was electric. Watching them, I knew I had so much to learn. Within in this time I forged a casual but incredible relationship with Jeremy - enough that he opened the doors to my confidence in taking over the George and transforming it into the Melbourne Wine Room. I could also continue for much longer about the few times I ate at Bistrode but how those times reminded me of how I wanted to serve food - flavours and attitude that at the time I felt I in particular had been forgotten. I will miss your sense of humour, laughter, kindness and our few drunken nights that now I wish had gone on forever.

Strode in his kitchen in 2013.
Strode in his kitchen in 2013. Photo: Edwina Pickles

Jill Dupleix, Sydney Morning Herald

I'll never forget Jeremy's brilliantly simple food at the George in Melbourne, where he and Donlevy Fitzpatrick revolutionised the idea of the suburban pub, building in a French bakery, wine-driven bars and Jeremy's modern European bistro. Nor will I ever forget his parsley soup at Pomme, in Toorak Road (three chefs hats in The Age Good Food Guide,1998 and 1998) So much flavour! So green and fresh! I asked him what incredible stock he used to give it so much flavour and life and he burst out laughing. "Water," he said.

Terry Durack, Sydney Morning Herald

Jeremy leaves an enormous hole in the dining cultures of both Melbourne and Sydney. His approach was so uncompromising, his influence went deeper and lasted longer than most chefs of his generation. He really knew how to cook, and what things should taste like – he could get flavour out of a single stalk of parsley. It was a very pure, simple approach that came from both his British background, his high-level French training and his love of living in Australia. Too soon, too sad, but a life and work to be greatly celebrated.

Darren Robertson, Three Blue Ducks and Rocker, Sydney and Byron Bay

Like everyone, I'm still totally in shock. Jez was and always will be one of the most loved and respected chefs in our industry. He was a chef's chef, his food was no bullshit, honest cooking, the truth. The hospo community has been massively rocked by this, but because of what he gave us and stood for, we will come together, fight the cause and keep his spirit forever alive.

Jeremy and Jane Strode with their two children.
Jeremy and Jane Strode with their two children. Photo: Supplied

Anthony Puharich, Vics Meats, Australia

Dear Jezza, the tragedy of your passing is something I am still personally struggling to accept and deal with but the pain and sadness I am feeling is deep and real. We first met in 2002 when you took the head chef position at MG Garage here in Sydney. Your reputation as a talented, hard working and uncompromising chef who had worked in some of the best kitchens in the world had already made its way up to Sydney before you did. I remember being excited to meet you in person and when we finally did meet I was greeted by a big smile, firm handshake and a person who was genuinely passionate about food and cooking. You gave me a chance to be your butcher and I have proudly been so ever since. In those early years nobody inspired, challenged and taught me more about meat, especially offal than what you did. A cook's cook. A chef's chef. A mentor. A role model. A great mate. A loving husband to Jane and kind and caring father of three sons. A decent human being who might be gone now but in our memories and thoughts forever. You were one of the good guys mate. This is a particularly sad moment for every single person who knew and met you.

Morgan McGlone, Belles Hot Chicken, Sydney and Melbourne

I first met Jeremy Strode in 1995 while I was an apprentice at Bistro CBD under Luke Mangan. I was going to Melbourne for the first time and had booked myself into the Adelphi Hotel and also at the Restaurant Adelphi. At the time I really wanted to cook at La Tante Claire where Jezza had been the head chef so I asked him for a job. He didn't have one but suggested to go to Waterside Inn and get in that way. I never actually got to work in London, instead went to work in Paris, but I always remembered my first meeting with Jezza. Through the years we became closer and closer. I would invite him to every guest chef dinner we did at Hotel Harry and I would always tell the staff that "The Truth gets no bill". We loved and respected him that much. We try to have a gentlemen's Christmas lunch so we can all get together and enjoy each other's company. Last year we did it at the Unicorn and Jezza came and we had the most amazing day, I just didn't think that it would be one of our last.

Mitch Orr, ACME and Bar Brose, Sydney

Strodey was always someone you heard about as a young chef. He really became part of my world when Thomas Lim and I opened Duke. He was a mentor to Thomas, and he looked up to Jeremy like no one else in the industry. The first time I actually had the honour of cooking with him was for an event - "old dogs new tricks". Jeremy was so pumped to be a part of it, so excited to see the ideas us young idiots had. He's always been that way, whether it was coming to one of my establishments or bumping into him on the street or eating his food. He made you feel like you were one of his. He was always so blown away and proud of what you were doing, and that meant the world. If we were out having lunch or a drink with industry crew and The Truth decided to roll through and hang out, it automatically made that time feel more special, feel like a momentous occasion. It's an amazing feeling when someone you respect and look up to so much becomes a friend who you can talk with, laugh with and seek advice from. Thank you for all the laughs and all the amazing meals. I can't really express what it meant to me, what it meant to our industry. My thoughts and love are with Jane and the boys.

Strode in his Pomme days.
Strode in his Pomme days. Photo: Julian Kingma

Marty Boetz, Cooks Co-op, Sackville

We have woven in and out of each other's cooking lives always gracious, humble, new good produce, was real and made the best dishes with smoked eel. Thanks for the chats, encouragement and support, we'll miss you Jezz.

Mark Labrooy, Three Blue Ducks, Sydney and Byron Bay

Jezza, hearing the news of your death has made me think about moments I've had with you as a fellow chef and as a friend. I remember waking very early on the first morning of the WAW Gathering a few years ago, I headed downstairs to the foyer and noticed you were also an early riser. We didn't know each other very well but you asked if I'd like to join you for a walk. We spent two hours walking the streets of St Kilda. You showed me your old restaurant and talked about how life was when you first moved from Britain, you talked about Jane and the boys. I appreciated your openness and honesty. You asked a lot of questions about me, about how I was doing in my personal and professional life. You made it easy to be your friend. It was so nice seeing you up in Byron when you came with your family, sharing a meal together. When you asked me to do the R U OK dinner, I dropped everything to be involved, and I know every other chef there did the same. You were an inspiration to us all within the cooking community. Rest easy mate.

Andrew Guard, Andrew Guard Wine Imports, Australia

Jeremy was a genial chef, I loved the way he effortlessly put together great produce simply and with great technique. His cooking had a lovely balance - the perfect food for fine wine. His time cultivating chefs throughout his career earned him enormous respect and many friends. His ability to pull together the entire industry for his R U OK events is just one example of the love we all had for him and the outpouring of grief and raw emotion at the news of his passing immense. He had a great smile, it made me smile, and that's what I'll remember.

Jeremy Strode and son Max filleting fish.
Jeremy Strode and son Max filleting fish. Photo: Julian Kingma

Scott Bolles, Fairfax Media, Sydney

Corned beef. It's an odd lasting food memory of a chef who trained in and conquered some of the most polished kitchens of his time. The culinary historians will remember Jeremy Strode for his smoked eel on a quivery cauliflower panna cotta at MG Garage, but Strode could just as effortlessly whip up a late-night corned beef so good it'd turn a wavering vegetarian. It wasn't easy riding into town as an outsider and jumping in the hot seat at MG Garage, but he had a knack for unconventional charm. Jeremy had a rare mix of curiosity, talent, confidence and self-questioning rolled into one delightful package. He was as honest as he was professionally talented. I'll miss conversations that typically lurched from rotisserie chicken to any concerns – usually for others – and an unwavering pride in Jane and his three boys.

Franck Moreau, Merivale, Sydney

There are no words to describe how I feel. Jeremy was so passionate, a very kind man and generous with his time. I had the chance to work very closely with him and share some great moment. His love for food, his teaching chefs how to use offal and secondary cuts. One my favourite dishes was his "hearts and minds" salad and his stuffed pig's trotters. He was a legend and will be terribly missed. I will be raising a glass of rose for him as one of his favourite drinks.

Jonathan Thorne, Bistrode CBD, Sydney

Jezza was a man who had a uncompromising vision with his approach to produce, care and execution of the dishes he created, keeping things simple and letting the food sing. He educated so many of us in his approach to food with strong beliefs on how sustainable the fish was that we ate, his passion for grass fed beef and his undying love of all things offal in the kitchen. He pushed everyone every day - himself the most. Keeping up standards day in and out. If we tried to make an excuse it was met with "what do you mean?!" Even though Jezza pushed us hard, his love and care for the people he worked with was always felt. If he noticed anything wrong with anyone he was the first to ask if they were OK. I am going to miss this man, from him slapping me on the arse in the middle of a busy service to sitting down in the morning chatting about the day ahead and what we were doing over the weekend. Jezza you have gone way to soon, I hope you are at peace now, and they are serving tripe, calf's liver with bacon or corned beef with horseradish and mustard with a glass of pinot noir or rose wherever you are.

Brendan Fong, 61 Beak, London

Jeremy, I can't thank you enough for what you have taught me over the years. You were such a great mentor and chef. I'll never forget cooking you calf's liver and bacon for your dinner some nights just to get you out of the kitchen so you could rest and take a break. Today, it's still one of my favourite meals. Sydney has lost one of their greats.

The essential facts

Jeremy Strode came to Australia from London in 1992 after working in some of Britain's most lauded kitchens, including the Waterside Inn with Michel Roux and La Tante Claire with Pierre Koffmann. He made his mark in Melbourne at restaurants like the George Hotel and the Adelphi, before opening his own restaurant, Pomme.

Strode moved to Sydney in 2002, and in 2010, with his wife, chef Jane Strode, opened Bistrode CBD as part of the Merivale empire, and he ran the Fish Shop as well.

He and Jane were recipe columnists for Good Food between 2007 and 2012.

In 2015, he organised a charity dinner for not-for-profit R U OK?, which is focused on suicide prevention.

Strode is survived by Jane, their two children and a son from his previous marriage.

When New York City food writer Kat Kinsman wrote the book Hi, Anxiety: Life With a Bad Case of Nerves, about his mental health experiences, it began a conversation with people in the hospitality industry. These led to the creation of Chefs With Issues, a not-for-profit website gathering resources about dealing with the pressures of restaurant life.

More help is available at:

Lifeline, 13 11 14, lifeline.org.au;
Suicide Call Back Service, 1300 659 467, suicidecallbackservice.org.au;
MensLine Australia, 1300 789 978, mensline.org.au;
beyondlblue, 1300 224 636, beyondblue.org.au;
and R U OK? ruok.org.au.

For those who knew Jeremy and wish to pay their respects, please email media@merivale.com for details of his wake.