Hilary Barry calls her the best talker in New Zealand. And although it’s easy to see why food journalist and cooking personality Annabelle White, 68, has earned that title, she admits her preferred activities actually involve not speaking. Warm, witty and self-deprecating, Annabelle meets the Woman’s Weekly at a local café near her home on Auckland’s North Shore.
Wearing a black Cossack-style Russian hat (“I look like Anna Karenina on a bad day!”), she agrees to ordering a cheese scone, even when she has had more than a million YouTube views of her viral scone recipe. (It’s so popular that it has resulted in “marriage proposals from strange men in the United States”).
Born in Whakatāne, Annabelle gained a Master’s degree with First Class Honours in History and Geography from the University of Waikato. She became a secondary-school teacher before pivoting to a career in food. Five decades later, the self-proclaimed “cuddly cook” has authored 12 cookbooks, along with countless columns and TV appearances. She also runs cooking classes, and is a travel writer and public speaker.
Why haven’t we seen as much of you lately?
Since Covid, I’ve been looking after my elderly parents, which I wanted to do because I love them, but it hasn’t been without its challenges and my heart goes out to anyone who’s in a similar situation. They lived next door. Dad [John] died in 2024 aged 93 and my mum [Jacqueline] passed away in December, aged 94. Sometimes, as their carer, I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing because you’re dealing with a lot of difficult medical issues. And now, even after they’ve passed, it is extremely hard to get over. I think the length of time you spend caring for someone is the same length of time it takes to get your emotional bandwidth back. The most important thing is you have to choose happiness, but I miss them so much as they were the best company.
We’re sorry for your loss. Has anything helped you reclaim your joie de vivre?
Oh, rejoicing in the small, simple things… like op-shopping. Minimalists would come into my home and need medication! It’s jam-packed with things from thrift shops. Right now, I’m wearing a handmade woollen cape from a thrift shop in New York. Whenever I go somewhere, I love collecting artworks and local honey – only in New Zealand – pickles and jams. I love that sense of someone made this with heart. My favourite artwork is one that [Australian MasterChef winner] Julie Goodwin gave me, which she painted.
You’re good mates with [broadcaster and politician] Paul Henry. What do you value in your friendship?
The reason Paul and I are such great friends is because we don’t see too much of each other! We communicate by text and we just completely get each other. Ten years ago, I ended up in a New Orleans hospital with multiple head fractures. He heard about it, and wanted to come and get me from the hospital to bring me home. It’s stuff like that that makes him such a dear friend.
Tell us about your breakfast TV antics together – on air, he used to always try to shut you down…
Well, that was actually my idea! I thought it’d be funny for him to be seen to be shutting this woman down who kept rabbiting on. Another funny moment was on my first day on his breakfast show on TV3. Paul was sitting there in a bright purple shirt.
Paul knew that part of my gig is to give out stuff to people I see wearing purple to help them with sexual repression.
So I said, “I cannot believe you are wearing that shirt!” He goes, “Why? What do you mean?” And I said, “Well, Americans have done research that anyone who wears purple often is sexually repressed.”
He turns to me and says suggestively, “Well, Annabelle, you and I both know that’s not right.”
My mother was getting phone calls from family members saying, “Can you believe what Paul Henry just said? Annabelle and Paul obviously have something going on!” She turned to my father and said, “She’s gone too far this time!”
You used to be married, but are happily single. Who’s your ideal man?
Kramer from Seinfeld. I’d love to know a Kramer. Readers might find this hard to believe, but my favourite things are going to the movies, opera, concerts and dinner by myself, and travelling solo too. I actually love it.
Name a favourite local cheap and cheerful place to eat.
It’s called Sunrise Hong Kong Café in Newmarket. It’s authentic and inexpensive. You can have three different dishes for $14 a head before 7pm. It’s the most incredible deal, but you don’t go there to savour a Sauvignon Blanc.
What’s the most awful thing you’ve eaten overseas?
I was in Northern Italy and the hosts took me to this restaurant where the speciality was tapulin con polenta – donkey meat. They were so excited, pointing to the pictures of the donkeys on the wall. I looked down at my meal and went, “Ey orr, ey orr.” I couldn’t eat it.
And the best?
One of my favourite places to head is Santa Margherita Ligure – the Portofino railway station in Italy. You don’t eat at Portofino because it’s full of George Hamilton lookalikes and it’s very expensive. You walk four blocks up from the station – away from the seaside – and you’ll find a small pasta shop that’s inexpensive and delicious.
When you were the Woman’s Weekly food editor, was there a recipe that garnered a lot of feedback?
It was actually my mother’s lemon yoghurt cake, which we featured for a Mother’s Day issue. You can find it on my website [annabellewhite.com/yoghurt-lemon-cake]. I remember eating it after school, while talking to my mother as she prepared dinner. It’s one of my happiest childhood memories.
As a former religious education teacher, what are your memories from that time?
I was successful as a teacher because I learned to dramatise the Bible. We used to re-enact the parables – the students loved the burning bush, casting the mustard seed etc. But the one they loved best was the stoning of the prostitute. Oh, I had them lining up! Another teacher made a complaint that there was too much laughter coming from my classroom. They asked me to leave the school when I did Moses and the Parting of the Red Sea and all I had was a hose. Those years teaching were some of the best. I still get a lot of my old students coming up to me.
You’ve interviewed quite a few celebrity cooks in your time, such as Jamie Oliver, Nigella Lawson and Rick Stein. Do you have a favourite question you always start off with?
I like to ask something that might take them by surprise. When I interviewed Rick 25 years ago, I was asked by my boss to see if I could annoy him because Rick is always so perfectly happy. So I said to Rick, “British food really isn’t that great – how can you promote it?” And he goes, “You’re right!”
Did you get on well with Nigella?
We did. She was my first-ever TV interview. I said to her, “Do you think you single-handedly increased the sales of satin robes?” Which I thought was fun, but I don’t think she liked it. But towards the end of the interview, after asking her to describe her kitchen, her whole face lit up. My final question was, “How hard is it being Nigella Lawson?” And I expected her to answer something cliché like, “Oh, I worry about the paparazzi” or, “I worry about my kids”, but she looked across at me and said, “I just worry that I may disappoint.” It gave such an insight.
What’s your cooking philosophy at the moment?
Simplicity. If I said to you, “I’ve got to go home to make a croquembouche with crème mousseline”, you can take me out and shoot me because I’ve gone completely mad. My philosophy is less time cooking and more time shopping – meaning, go and get the best piece of fish you can afford, buy what’s in season and serve something simple. A friend invited me to dinner recently and we had soup with bread – it was so delicious and just perfect. With the way food prices are, pot-luck dinners are the way to go.
You’ve developed a genre of cooking classes called Fumour…
Yes, food with humour! It’s like a cookery class being hosted by Mary Berry crossed with Dame Edna Everage. You get your practical cooking tips, but I interact with the audience, give out spot prizes and we have some great laughs along the way.
Finally, what would the title of your autobiography be?
What I Wished My Aunty Told Me. I’m thinking about writing and self-publishing a book – not a cookbook, although there will be some recipes in it – but advice to people, mixed with funny stories from my life. I’m not doing it for self-gratification, but to deliver some joy to others and make them laugh, which is my greatest joy.
Also, you know how authors say, “Any names or semblance to anyone living is purely coincidental”?
Well, I would write, “Everything is true. No names have been changed!”
For more of Annabelle White and her recipes, head to Annabellwhite.com
