Lennox Hastie on Firedoor, Gildas and why fire and produce still lead the way

The Staff Canteen

Editor 11th November 2025
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Lennox Hastie, executive chef at Sydney’s Firedoor, reflects on the discipline of live-fire cooking, his growing focus on producers and sustainability, and how his Basque-inspired bar Gildas extends that philosophy.

The Staff Canteen said: “Few chefs have pushed the boundaries of elemental cooking as far as Lennox. At Firedoor, every movement around the flame has purpose.” 

From Spain to Sydney

When Chef’s Table profiled Firedoor, the world saw a restaurant cooking entirely with wood. No gas. No electricity. Just fire, ingredients and timing. The episode introduced Lennox’s approach to a global audience just as Australia faced bushfires and a pandemic that tested every kitchen.

Rather than chase the spotlight, Lennox tightened focus. “The attention pulled in two groups,” he said. “People who already loved fine dining, and the barbecue community. The barbecue scene here is huge, it’s part of our culture.”

Before Firedoor, Lennox’s path ran through the UK and Spain. In the Basque Country he learnt that fire wasn’t a show but a discipline. “In Spain I learnt that fire is about restraint, patience and respect for the ingredient,” he said. “Fire is alive. You have to listen and respond.”

That lesson still anchors everything he does. “The Basque chefs showed me that if you put the ingredient first, the fire will do the rest.”

The daily discipline

Firedoor’s menu changes daily, written only once the produce arrives. A fisherman’s catch or a grower’s best harvest can set the night’s direction. Guests sit within view of custom grills, flames lick the pans, and embers glow under grates. There is theatre, but the aim is flavour and texture.

On any given night diners might taste rock oysters gently warmed in their shells, Murray cod brushed with its fat and held over coals until the flakes loosen, or carrots roasted whole in embers until the centres turn sweet. Nothing wears heavy sauce. Everything shows the ingredient clearly.

“If there is no wood, I don’t have a restaurant. But if there is no produce, I wouldn’t bother either,” he said. “Everything starts with the ingredient.”

That line is not a slogan but a method. The team calls producers directly to ask what’s best today and what should be left alone. If something isn’t right, it stays off the menu.

Relationships with fishermen, farmers and foragers are personal. Lennox visits them, brings them into the dining room and builds dishes that respect their process. “I often ask what gets them out of bed in the morning,” he said. “That’s the story I want to share with guests.”

Sustainability sits inside that approach rather than around it. Firedoor uses Australian hardwoods carefully, manages ash and waste with the same attention given to a fillet of fish, and buys to the day to avoid spoilage. “We can’t cook without growers and a healthy environment,” he said. “Sustainability is not an add-on. It’s essential.”

The open kitchen brings a human pace to service. Fire never sits still; it needs watching. Cooks move grills up and down, shift pans to cooler zones, and read the heat by eye. Guests see it all. The room is quiet but alive.

Wood, Smoke and Season

Every piece of wood in Firedoor has purpose. Applewood might soften the flavour of shellfish, while ironbark adds strength to red meat. Different embers burn at different tempos, so each dish requires precision. “You can’t just throw something on and hope,” Lennox said. “You need to know what that wood will do.”

The selection of wood shapes the rhythm of the kitchen. Deliveries arrive from regional NSW, often sourced from fallen or reclaimed timbers. The team sorts it by burn temperature, density and smoke character. It’s a slow, exacting process, but one that defines the restaurant’s identity as much as any ingredient.

Seasonality plays the same role. Each menu reflects what’s available right now - whether that’s coastal herbs from the South Coast, line-caught fish from Eden, or heirloom vegetables from the Blue Mountains region. “We work backwards from what nature gives us,” Lennox said. “That’s how the dishes start.”

The result is a restaurant that feels connected to the seasons in a way few others can. There’s no set formula or signature dish, only a pattern of adaptation. When something peaks, it appears. When it fades, it’s gone. That rhythm keeps the kitchen alert and the food fresh.

Gildas and the Basque thread

Gildas, Lennnox’s bar in Surry Hills, is a compact expression of his Basque influences. Named after the classic skewer of anchovy, olive and guindilla pepper, it offers snacks built for wine and conversation.

“The gilda itself is a masterclass in balance,” he said. “Salt and umami from the anchovy, brine from the olive, fruit and heat from the pepper. At Gildas we add preserved lemon for lift.”

For Lennox, the bar is an extension of Firedoor’s philosophy in a different register. “It’s those flavours and that drop-in culture,” he said. “Have a drink, have a bite, talk to people. Simple, but it’s everything.”

Craft, people and pressure

The global attention that followed Chef’s Table brought new expectations for live-fire cooking, but Lennox kept the scope tight and the philosophy consistent. “Anyone can do something once,” he said. “If you can’t sustain it over time, it’s not real. Fire should keep growing, teaching and inspiring.”

That commitment extends to people. Labour remains one of the hardest challenges in Australian restaurants, with a smaller pool of skilled cooks and tougher competition for talent. Firedoor’s model asks more of its team because fire is physical, slow and demanding, so the restaurant invests heavily in training and culture.

Lennox acknowledges that economic pressure has changed the industry. Rising costs and shifting diner habits continue to shape how restaurants operate. His response is to double down on experience and transparency. “Explain the work of the producers, show the fire, keep the food direct,” he said. “If the ingredient is excellent and the cooking precise, people understand the value.”

He’s realistic about what one kitchen can change. Not every problem can be solved in-house, but each decision can show intent. “Fire has often been seen as rudimentary,” he said. “It can be elevated, refined and beautiful. Like our industry, it is what you make of it.”

That message feeds into how he trains younger cooks. A strong idea doesn’t need decoration; it needs discipline and care. If they learn that, he says, they’re learning something bigger than recipes - they’re learning how to build a career.

Fire, future and focus

As Australian dining continues to evolve, Firedoor and Gildas feel even more relevant. Staffing remains tight, costs remain high, and diners are more selective than ever. Yet there’s a renewed appetite for places that feel grounded, honest and specific.

Firedoor isn’t chasing novelty. It’s refining a craft. Lennox’s belief that fire connects people to food has only grown stronger. The grill might shift and menus might evolve, but the idea hasn’t changed.

“For chefs, the lesson is to find the element that makes your food yours and protect it,” he said. “For guests, the invitation is to come close to the fire and taste what attention and restraint can do.”
 

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