2.5 min read

Father’s Day is just around the corner and made me realize how much I miss my dad. So, I wanted to dedicate this post to all dads, father figures, and male mentors out there who have changed the lives of people like me and you. 

Here is a sneak peek of my book The Making of a Chef that I wrote many years ago but still relevant today. This book is included in the Gift Hamper my team and I put together to spoil Dad this Father’s Day.

“I guess I grew up like many Aussie kids: middle-class family in the 'burbs. Of course, with the Mangans being of Irish Catholic descent, there were quite a few of us. I'm the youngest of seven, all boys—my poor, poor mother. Up until the autumn of 1970, my family lived in the regional Victorian town of Heathcote, known for its pink cliffs that were revealed during the gold rush mining period of the 1880s. Now, it's also one of my favourite regions in Australia for Shiraz. But the country life my family knew changed when my dad, William James Mangan, the bank manager at the Old Bank in Heathcote, took up an offer to be transferred to the big smoke of Melbourne. The role was to be bank manager of The Commercial Bank of Australia. Mum, Marie Una Mangan, was a trained nurse, but Dad's big break allowed her to hang up the dress, apron and cap to take up a full-time nursing gig—raising a house full of rowdy boys. Meanwhile, Dad joined the throng of Melbourne's white collars and balanced the books.

Dad was as firm with his staff as he was with us kids. When I was about ten, Mum took me into Dad's work in Footscray. Mum wanted to do some shopping on her own and Dad and I was going to meet up with her somewhere for lunch. So, I hung out in his office upstairs above the bank. I remember, when we both walked down the stairs to leave for lunch, seeing all these people queuing up to be served, but there were only two bank tellers on. Dad walked into the middle of the room and he did his 'nana. He was yelling 'where are the bloody bank tellers, get me three more bank tellers out here immediately, look at all the customers out here.' All the customers in the room cheered and applauded him

It's funny, but I always remember that incident whenever I see the service side of things go wrong in a restaurant. It was the middle of the day and all the tellers had gone out for lunch, but all the customers were there, frustrated as hell with the lack of service. Even Dad knew back then that it doesn't matter what line of business you're in: if your service lets you down then your business will fail.”

In honour of my old man, William James Mangan, who taught me invaluable life lessons that I’ll always carry with me.