Meet Nornie Bero, the chef determined to bring native produce into our homes
I'm an Island girl, from Mer in the far east Torres Strait, at the most northern point of Australia, in between Papua New Guinea and the tip of Cape York. I'm from the Komet People – that's our tribe – and Wanpun, which is a gecko, that's my totem.
From the youngest age, I was part of the working household: growing produce, weeding and cooking. My earliest memories are of Dad teaching me how to make damper when I was barely able to see over the stovetop. To raise extra money, he started a tuckshop on one side of a bamboo wall running down the middle of our house.
Every morning I'd wake up when it was still dark and help Dad make pumpkin buns that I would deliver to the locals before school. He paid me in marbles. Island kids are ruled by marbles – I had a milk tin full of them!
Growing up with a spear in my hand seems unreal, but that was my beginning. Dad made me my own spear and if it ever got bent out of shape, I'd have to fix it myself. Before the sun rose, we would head out to the reef holding a kerosene lamp for a torch to catch anything that had been trapped in the lagoons overnight. I remember trying to spear octopus before they slithered away, or finding a giant clam, ready to cook in coconut milk. The creamy, sweet taste of coconut always makes me remember my aunties and grandmothers sitting in their colourful aw gemwalies (island dresses), moud merring (gossiping) with big smiles and koquam (hibiscus) flowers in their hair. They would skin yams and scrape coconut with a madu (a wooden board with a metal edge), and prepare banana leaves to wrap damper and fish, all while singing our traditional songs.
Big city life
Moving away from home is still one of the hardest things I've ever done. I arrived in Melbourne excited to experience the city, from the vibrant culture to the amazing food, but I had to find a job, fast. I had no idea how hard it would be for a young woman, let alone a woman of colour, to find work. This was the late '90s, and the kitchens were ruled by men. It was a challenge just to get in the door, but once I did I was in for life. I made sure I stuck with the hospitality industry no matter how tough it got because I just loved it.
Hospitality is like a village of its own. Working long shifts in the kitchen, you end up spending most of your time with colleagues who become your family, particularly when you're far away from home and your community. We all came from somewhere else and so, for me, it was like swapping one village for another. The friends I made in kitchens and restaurants have stayed with me for life.
Outside the kitchen, it wasn't always the same story. People don't realise how big and diverse Australia really is, and I would often get asked, "Where are you from?" When I would tell them I was from the Torres Strait, I would get a blank look.
I found one of the best ways to teach people about my home was through the food I was raised with, in dishes such as yams in coconut cream (called sop sop) and semur, a chicken soy sauce dish with lots of lemongrass, ginger and vermicelli noodles.
Australia is a multicultural platform for so many different countries, and how we share culture is through food, whether it's Greek, Italian, Ethiopian, Turkish, Indian or Vietnamese. There's more acceptance through food. Great food is the key to conversation and helps open people's minds to new cultures. But I realised there was little understanding of Australian Indigenous food, and definitely not of Torres Strait Islander food. I knew it was time to change that.
I'm on a mission to take Indigenous ingredients out of fancy restaurants and into every kitchen. Now is the time to share the amazing food culture that has been handed down to us through the generations for more than 60,000 years. Just like organic produce, native ingredients shouldn't be an expensive treat. Everyone in Australia should be cooking with native fruit, veg, spices and meats. Kara Meta, Mara Meta means "my home, your home". With this book, I invite you to join our village. It's time to open your heart – and your pantry – to the Torres Strait, and to the many Indigenous flavours, cuisines and cultures of this big island: Australia.
This is an edited extract from Mabu Mabu by Nornie Bero, Hardie Grant Books, $45. Buy now