I never ate Janni Kyritsis’ food at Berowra Waters; for lack of the dosh, not for lack of desire. It wasn’t until his stint at MG Garage that I had the chance to find out why all the foodies I by then knew spoke with a mixture of reverence and fondness when they talked about him and his food. That single occasion provided me with one of those revelatory moments when a dish confounds all expectations so completely and so serendipitously that it lodges itself in taste memory so strongly that just its name is enough to bring the flavours to the palate years later. It happened the first time I tasted David Tsikeras’ olive oil ice cream, and it happened with my first bite of Kyritsis’ wild weed pie. I loved it so much that I and my dining companion of the night asked for a quick rundown of its ingredients and production on the spot and then went home and created our own version of it. Clearly the dish also has a special significance for Kyritsis as he’s titled his first cookbook after it.