The Systems Behind Pipit’s Sustainability

At Pipit, sustainability is not treated as a label. It is treated as a series of decisions that show up in ordering, prep, menu structure, staffing, design and how the team communicates with guests.

For co-owners Yen Trinh and Ben Devlin, the simplest internal framework is “respect”.

“Sustainability is complex but simplified it’s mostly about intention and respect,” they explain. Respect the farmer growing the radish. Respect the radish by using all of it. Respect the team preparing it. Respect the guest. Respect the place and region in the story you tell.

That idea sounds clean. The test is whether it holds when the restaurant is full.

Set menu as a sustainability tool

Pipit runs a mix of set menu and à la carte, but the set menu format is what the team is best known for and what they prefer. They also see it as one of the biggest practical enablers of their sustainability approach.

A set menu creates predictability. That predictability helps them maximise ingredients, respond faster to seasons and availability, and keep food cost under tighter control.

It also allows the menu to include small, creative link components that would not sit neatly on an à la carte menu. They give the example of a duck liver pop accompanying a duck main course, using what could otherwise be waste in a way that feels intentional rather than forced.

The trade-off is labour. They’re clear that maximising waste by making preserves and keeping so much production in-house increases labour cost, even if that level of detail is also part of finer dining by nature.
The other advantage is storytelling time. A six to eight course format gives more space to explain produce and build context with guests compared with à la carte.

Protein decisions: coastal logic first

Pipit avoids serving farmed red meats such as beef, lamb and pork, and instead focuses on sustainable seafood, poultry and wild game, including kangaroo as a red meat option.

They frame the decision as sustainability-led, tied to wider land management impacts, but they also emphasise that it aligns with the kind of food they want to cook.

“We live by the beach, and seafood makes more sense than heavy meats.”

They expected some guests to be upset or to view steak as the premium default, but that concern largely didn’t eventuate. There has been little pushback.

When guests do ask, they keep the explanation simple: sense of place and sustainability. Menus are kept updated online so guests can make an informed decision before booking. If someone wants a steak, they can choose another venue.

Creatively, they don’t see the decision as limiting. In areas that traditionally lean on pork, they use duck and fish instead. Duck salami, fish ham and swordfish bacon appear in canapés.

Proteins are not always the centre of the plate. Sometimes they are the garnish, the dressing or the accent. Satisfaction is built through sauces, balance and progression across the full journey of courses.

Whole fish planning, week by week

Seafood is approached as a system.

Whole fish are aged for around seven to ten days, with ordering and planning set roughly a week ahead. Ageing on the bone extends lifespan, and fish are broken down in parts as needed per service.

Primary cuts drive raw and grilled dishes. Secondary cuts move into canapés and sides. Tertiary uses include smoked fish fillings. Offcuts are diverted into weekly batches of garum, and bones are dried for stocks.

They make around two-kilogram batches of garum weekly, building towards larger drums that are aged and returned to future menus.

Waste reduction as flavour design

Their systems are grounded in a flavour-first, low-waste mindset. The result is a large fermentation and preserves program.

There are more than 30 garums, 14 vinegars and 20 misos in rotation, developed over more than five years.

This preserves library forms part of Pipit’s flavour backbone alongside seasonal fresh produce and other house-made items.

They describe it less as building new systems each time and more as integrating new products into existing ones. When their duck supplier changed and more offal arrived with the birds, they adapted the duck process to mirror the fish process rather than reinventing their approach.

The debate between house-made and wholesale is real. Efficiency and cost matter. But for Pipit, the choice remains tied to flavour, pride and craft.

Talking about sustainability without lecturing

No venue wants to lecture guests. At Pipit, storytelling is calibrated.

Front of house reads the table. Some guests want depth. Others want a lighter touch.

At minimum, there is clarity. Where the fish was caught. Why a duck dish includes liver alongside breast. A fermented dipping sauce labelled “tasty waste paste” that invites curiosity without moralising.

Ferment jars and produce are displayed around the dining room and open kitchen. Ben’s gyotaku artwork features the sustainable fish species used on the menu, often sparking informal conversations about seafood and sourcing.

For those who want more, the sustainability policy is detailed and public. Transparency is seen as essential to avoiding greenwashing and encouraging industry learning.

People and culture as sustainability

With an average team of around 10 people, Pipit operates as a hands-on owner-run business. Size helps culture stay tight.

One of the most significant internal initiatives came from a 2020 team workshop: Staffie Sundays. A monthly paid session outside service where business topics, sustainability discussions, staff meal themes and non-hospitality talks are explored.

Transparency runs deeper than meetings. The team contributes to strategy. Pop-ups can include profit share. Collaborative chef events, such as Chefs Collabs, bring multiple venues and mentors together in a model that challenges the industry’s competitive reflex.

Retention is treated as economic sustainability. As a small regional business without many senior roles or headhunting budget, they focus on personalised training plans and creating opportunities through collaborations and pop-ups, encouraging future chef-owner pathways for those who want them.

Designed as a workplace

Yen’s design background shapes more than aesthetics.

Influenced by the idea of putting the team first in decision-making, the restaurant was conceived as a workplace as much as a dining room. Decisions that reduce stress for staff ultimately improve guest experience.

The open-plan kitchen was designed so chefs can see diners. What emerged was something more powerful.

Every role is visible. All chefs present food directly to guests. Ten seats sit at the counter, creating constant engagement. Junior kitchenhands have been thanked and even tipped separately by guests because their work is visible.

Guests often comment on the calm of the space. The openness challenges stereotypes of aggressive kitchens and reflects clarity of roles and teamwork.

Design is not just physical layout. Booking systems, staggered seating, group policies and sitting times are treated as part of systems design that reduces pressure before service even begins.

Sustainability as refinement, not perfection

They are open about trial and error. Climate control in a subtropical environment remains a work in progress, balancing guest comfort with reduced power use through blinds, louvers, glass tinting, fans and a recently added retractable fly screen.

Small business means constant refinement.

At Pipit, sustainability is not a slogan. It is intention translated into systems that can hold up on a full night of service.