Aaron Ward on local produce, kitchen culture and Bathers’ Pavilion

By the time a piece of fish reaches the table at Bathers’ Pavilion, Aaron Ward wants his chefs to understand the work that came before it.

Guests see the finished dish, not the fishermen working through the night in rough seas, the growers tending produce on the farm, or the time and care required before an ingredient reaches the kitchen.

For Executive Chef Aaron Ward, understanding that work changes how a chef handles the product. “The guests that come in, they don’t know what’s been growing back at the farm,” says Aaron. “They don’t see the fishermen who are out fishing all night, dealing with ten-foot waves. Then they come in and there’s this beautiful piece of fish they can sit down and have for lunch.”

That is why Aaron places so much value on the people responsible for the ingredients entering his kitchen. “I’m so appreciative of the farmers and the producers that we use, because it does take a lot of effort,” he says.

At Bathers’ Pavilion, that respect shapes the menu, the way Aaron leads the brigade and the story the restaurant passes on to its guests.

Putting his stamp on Bathers’ Pavilion

Originally built as a public bathing pavilion in 1929, the building became home to Misha’s Restaurant in 1969. It later entered another significant culinary period under chef Serge Dansereau, whose cooking brought a technical and classical French influence to the venue.

That history was part of what drew Aaron to Bathers’ Pavilion. “I wanted to come to Bathers because of that culinary history,” he says. “I wanted to put my stamp on the place as well and show Balmoral what it could be again.”

The restaurant’s position overlooking Balmoral Beach naturally influences what guests expect to find on the menu. Aaron describes the local diners as humble in what they want to eat and appreciative of what they are served.

“The guests that come in, they do want to eat nice, fresh seafood,” he says. “They want to see those dishes, but they’re also accepting of a nice piece of meat as well.”

During filming, Aaron prepares a nettle pasta made with flour, eggs and fresh nettles. He describes the dish as bringing together the earthiness of the nettles with the roundness and richness of a filling containing pecorino and truffle.

“You’ve got the earthiness from the nettles in the pasta, but then you’ve got that beautiful roundness from the rich mix inside,” he says.

The dish is built around a clear contrast, with the nettles contributing more than colour and the richer filling giving the pasta depth.

Learning where flavour begins

After moving from Newcastle to Sydney, Aaron joined the opening team at Sixpenny, an experience he describes as his first real taste of fine dining in the city.

Working in a city restaurant can create distance between a chef and the source of an ingredient. Produce often arrives cleaned and packed, with little evidence of where or how it was grown. Sixpenny’s relationship with its farm near Bowral gave Aaron a different experience.

“We’d bring the produce up and it was covered in dirt, and we’d have to wash it,” he says. “It was real farm-to-table, having that opportunity.”

Seeing produce before it had been prepared for the kitchen helped Aaron understand how growing conditions affect what eventually reaches the plate. “It definitely opens up a new world of flavour,” he says. “The way things are grown is where it starts. That’s where flavour begins.”

For Aaron, the soil and the time allowed for an ingredient to develop directly influence its taste. Produce grown too quickly does not develop the same sweetness or depth.

That lesson continues to shape the relationships he builds with growers today. Aaron works with a farm near Newcastle run by people he grew up with and went to school with. Rather than only selecting from a fixed produce list, he and his team send the growers photographs of varieties they have seen and would like to use.

Some of those ingredients later appear on the farm’s growing list. “They’re progressing into different varieties and those heirloom varieties that you don’t see in the supermarkets,” says Aaron. “They’re growing those, and we’re able to showcase them on the menu.”

The arrangement gives the kitchen access to produce with a direct connection to the people growing it. It also allows Aaron’s team to contribute ideas about what could be planted and used in future menus.

Respecting the work behind the ingredient

Produce was not the only part of Sixpenny that changed Aaron’s understanding of the work behind food. When he first joined the restaurant, he was given responsibility for the bread.

“I learnt how simple bread is to make, but also how much hard work and effort goes into making bread,” he says.

The experience showed him how much attention can sit behind something that appears straightforward once it reaches the table. Visiting farms and meeting suppliers reinforced the same lesson.

“You go out to the country and visit these people, these suppliers and these farmers, and you see how hard that farmer works,” says Aaron.

He wants the chefs around him to understand those stories as well. When new produce arrives, it gives the brigade an opportunity to learn where it came from, how it was grown and how much work was required to produce it.

“The chefs in there love seeing new produce and seeing new suppliers come in, and being able to speak to them and hear their stories as well,” he says.

That understanding also informs the kitchen’s approach to yield and waste. Using more of each ingredient makes commercial sense, but Aaron does not view it purely as a costing decision.

“You want to really try and utilise everything from a spend and cost point of view, but also from just doing the right thing,” he says. “That’s a big part of my cooking and how I want to see things.”

Respecting an ingredient means recognising the work already invested in it and making considered decisions about how it is handled once it reaches the kitchen.

A whole community around hospitality

That respect for produce also influences how Aaron leads the brigade. He wants the chefs around him to contribute ideas to the menu and take an active role in how the food develops.

“The environment that we try to create in the kitchen, I’m quite an open book to everything the other chefs have to offer when it comes to new dishes or new flavours,” he says. “I’m all ears to everything they have to offer.”

The setting gives the team an unusual way to reset between services. During the afternoon break, Aaron and members of the brigade can leave the kitchen and step into the water at Balmoral Beach before returning for dinner.

“After a long, stressful day in the kitchen, I think there’s no better way than going for a dip,” he says. “You have the afternoon break between services, you can jump in the water, come back and finish the night’s service. There’s no better way to do it.”

For Aaron, the relationship between the restaurant and its surroundings extends beyond the view. It sits in the produce entering the kitchen, the people responsible for it and the message carried through the restaurant.

“I think hospitality is that sense of love,” he says. “I have the opportunity to go out and meet farmers and producers and have those connections face to face. But then it’s also my job to bring that back into the restaurant and deliver that message to the chefs in the kitchen, to front of house and then onwards to the guests.”

The restaurant becomes one part of a wider chain connecting the producer, kitchen, service team and diner. For Aaron, caring for the people entering the dining room is inseparable from caring for the product being served to them.

“You love caring for the product, but you also love caring for the guests who come through the door,” he says. “That’s what hospitality really is. It’s that love for what you actually do. It’s not just about a restaurant. It’s a whole community that brings hospitality together.”