Hey there, I’m Marina! I was born in Brisbane, raised with Greek traditions, sunburnt summers, smoky skies, and way too much lemon juice on everything. If food had a language, I’d say mine speaks in oregano, garlic, slow-simmered tomatoes, and freshly caught seafood. It tells stories from both sides of my family tree, one root sunk deep in Australia’s red soil, the other in the rocky hills of Greece.
Growing up, I watched my mum cook without ever opening a book. She cooked with her nose, her hands, her heart. I learned to trust taste over timers, to judge dough by feel, not instructions. She didn’t follow rules, she followed feeling. If there was a recipe, it was in her memory. If there was a method, it was passed through gestures. She taught me to love food, not just prepare it.
Years flew by. Life happened. I cooked to survive, not for fun. Then something shifted. I started to miss that sense of connection, not only to home but to the process. There’s something sacred about peeling vegetables in silence, watching oil shimmer in a hot pan, or tearing herbs straight from the garden. That’s when olivesandfeta.blog started to take shape. A place to collect recipes, share thoughts, track what I made in my small Brisbane kitchen. I wanted a home for ideas that tasted like both Australia and Greece, wild and sunlit, smoky and fresh.
So why olives? Why feta?
Simple. Those two ingredients show up more often than not in my kitchen. One grows strong in tough soil, the other keeps its cool in brine. They both add punch without trying. Just like the kind of food I love, bold, unfussy, honest.
Food isn’t perfect here. Sometimes the power cuts mid-roast. Sometimes tomatoes go soft before the salad is ready. That’s fine. This isn’t about polished plates or matching napkins. This is about flavour, joy, gutsy herbs, burnt bits on the edge of a baking tray, and the kind of cooking that forgives your mistakes.
What I cook and why it matters
My meals shift with the seasons. They reflect what I can grow, find, barter, or borrow. Summer means raw salads, grilled octopus, anything that can be eaten outside. Autumn calls for lentils, baked eggplant, and trays of figs caramelised in the oven. In winter, I go heavy on the stews. Split peas with lemon and olive oil. Chicken with cinnamon and tomato. By spring, I’m tossing fresh greens with crumbled feta and herbs pulled straight from damp soil.
Some weeks the mood is breezy, light like think watermelon salad, lemony hummus, paper-thin zucchini ribbons. Other days, cooking feels more like a storm like onions slow-cooked until jammy, lamb simmered until it falls apart, chickpeas mashed with roasted garlic.
Food has rhythm. Life here gives it tempo. One day I’m picking basil before the heat gets to it. Next day, I’m covering plants with wet towels to keep them from frying under a brutal sun. I’ve watched floods rip through streets, turning produce into a guessing game. I’ve harvested tomatoes during heatwaves and saved thyme from dry cracks in clay soil.
Through all of it, I’ve kept cooking. Always.
Who’s this site for?
Anyone who wants food that makes sense. Anyone tired of 27-step recipes with ingredients that sound like science projects. Anyone who’s ever stood in front of a fridge thinking, “What can I make with this zucchini, one lemon, and some lentils?”
This blog’s for you if:
- You want meals full of life but low on fuss
- You like food that’s generous with herbs and big on flavour
- You love the idea of Mediterranean eating but don’t want to give up your Aussie favourites
- You eat with your hands sometimes
- You don’t always measure, and that’s okay
You’ll find recipes here for breakfast, lunch, dinner. Also snacks, dips, side things, sweet things, drinks. Some vegan, some paleo, some low-carb, some low-fat. Not because I follow labels, but because I believe food should fit into real lives.
About the recipes
Most of what I cook comes from memory, taste, and mood. That means recipes here don’t read like school textbooks. You’ll see suggestions like “a handful of mint” or “enough olive oil to make things happy.” That’s because I want you to trust your own tastebuds, not rely on rigid amounts.
You’ll also find:
- Ingredient swaps, because not everyone lives near a market
- Tips for what to prep ahead
- Notes on where to save time and where to let things simmer
Each recipe tells a story. Where it came from. Why I made it. What was going on around me. Some meals are born from chaos, others from calm.
What makes this blog different?
I don’t stage every photo. I don’t shoot in a studio. Most dishes are snapped right before we eat. Sometimes I forget to photograph things altogether. I’d rather eat a warm bowl of soup than capture the steam rising perfectly off it.
This blog doesn’t try to be shiny. It just wants to be real. I cook like you do — distracted, hungry, sometimes emotional. That energy lands on the plate, whether I’m making a tray of roasted carrots or folding filo pastry with olive oil-stained fingers.
If you came here for perfection, you won’t find it. If you came here for flavour, honesty, rhythm, you’re in the right place.
A bit about me
I’m not a professional chef. I never trained in a kitchen. But I’m a food stylist, photographer, teacher, and someone who’s spent a lifetime around steaming pots and well-worn cutting boards.
Cooking is part instinct, part ritual. Food holds memory. I can’t taste cinnamon without thinking of my aunt’s slow-cooked lamb. I can’t smell garlic without hearing my mum shouting from the kitchen not to let it burn.
I run workshops now and then, simple ones that show people how to cook real food with confidence. I also work as a food stylist and photographer, mostly using natural light, old plates, scraps of linen, the occasional leaf or flower from the garden.
The land I live on
I live and cook on Turrbal and Yuggera land. Always was, always will be. The ingredients I use grow in soil rich with stories older than any recipe I could ever write. I try to honour that with respect, curiosity, care.
What’s next?
Recipes, mostly. Also thoughts, bits of life, things I’ve learned in the garden or kitchen. Maybe some ideas for how to feed more people with less fuss. Maybe ways to make that fridge clean-out feel less like a chore and more like a magic trick.
Soon, you’ll find weekly meal plans, seasonal cooking notes, garden updates, and ideas for keeping your meals fresh even during dry spells or rainy weeks.
There’ll be:
- Quick weekday meals
- Slower Sunday feasts
- Holiday spreads
- Snacks you can take outside
- Drinks that feel like summer
All simple. All colourful. All made with care.
Want to connect?
If you ever want to share your version of a recipe, ask a question, or just chat about seasonal produce, I’d love to hear from you. Use the Contact page, comment on a recipe, or message me on social media, I check in often.
Food should bring people together. So here’s a seat at my table. Messy, warm, full of flavour.Welcome to olivesandfeta.blog! Let’s cook something good.