Margaret Fulton: Australia's culinary pioneer

In 1968, two years before Germaine Greer's The Female Eunuch was published, an equally formidable Australian brought out her first book. While Greer inspired women to get out of the kitchen, Margaret Fulton extolled cookery as a joyful and liberating activity.

The Margaret Fulton Cookbook was almost as groundbreaking as Greer's feminist treatise, and as influential. Australian women who had never produced anything more daring than roast lamb and three veg were suddenly serving steak Diane, saltimbocca and spaghetti bolognaise to their sceptical husbands. Fulton's book sold 1.5 million copies and went through 19 reprints, setting in motion a revolution that turned her compatriots into a nation of foodies and made its author a household name overnight.

Forty years on, the woman credited with teaching Australians to cook is still dispensing down-to-earth insights and solid culinary advice. Aged 84, Scottish-born Fulton has just brought out her 23rd book, a compilation of Christmas recipes. "It's stupid," she says with a chuckle, during an interview at her home overlooking Sydney Harbour. "I was supposed to retire last year."

The main reason that this feisty, diminutive woman finds it hard to turn down work, one suspects, is her sense of mission. While the classically trained Fulton is a firm believer in technical principles, she wants to spread the word that cooking is a celebration of life, the glue that binds families and friends together, and, above all, fun.

It is hard to overstate the influence that Fulton – who was writing magazine columns before she began publishing books – has exerted during the past half-century. The country's original celebrity chef, she not only transformed the way Australians eat and entertain, but also stirred many of the Australian chefs now earning accolades at home and abroad.

As for "housewives", as they were known back then, Fulton recalls, before she came along, women were making mayonnaise with "a tin of condensed milk, an egg, some mustard and a bit of vinegar". She adds: "Everyone thought spaghetti just came out of a tin and you heated it up and put it on a piece of toast."

Her original cookbook, featuring mouth-watering photography, became a staple item on kitchen shelves. "In the 1970s, there wasn't a woman who didn't have it, and there was hardly a dinner party in Sydney that didn't serve Fulton's French onion soup and beef Wellington," remembers a Sydneysider in her 60s. "My copy was very well thumbed and stained."

Fulton was a woman for her times. Just as she embarked on her career, post-war Australia was welcoming waves of migrants, particularly from Italy and Greece. They brought their national cuisines with them; meanwhile, Australians were starting to travel overseas, and new ingredients were becoming available at home. The country was ripe for gastronomic reform. But it was not just innovation, nor the cast-iron reliability of Fulton's recipes, that made her first book such a phenomenal hit – nor do those factors explain why she still has a devoted following decades later. Her success has to do with her enthusiasm for food and her personal charm, which come across in everything she writes, as well as her approachable style.

"All my life, I've never talked down to people," she says, surrounded by an eclectic collection of artworks and ornaments in her living room. "I use the same language in my books as if I was having a conversation. And I don't over-explain."

Nor is Fulton absorbed solely by food; on the contrary, she has wide-ranging interests. When we meet, I have to steer her on to the subject of her new book, after she has spent a good while talking about domestic violence and female circumcision. Despite her age, and a quadruple bypass operation, she still plays an active public role; she is involved in nutrition work and campaigns against genetically modified foods.

Growing up in a New South Wales country town, the youngest of six children, Fulton never wanted to be a food writer – although her mother was a relatively adventurous cook who taught her the fundamentals. She wanted to be one of the Bluebell Girls: a celebrated troupe of Paris can-can dancers. "Then I realised the Bluebell Girls were all 6ft, and I certainly wasn't heading that way," says Fulton, who is well under 5ft.

That thwarted ambition was an early indication of her rebellious nature; equally rebellious was her eventual career choice. "Girls of my age didn't want to be in the kitchen," she explains. "They wanted to go to university, or find themselves a Yank."

Nonetheless, she loved what she did. "I've been trying to teach people to cook properly, and also to enjoy it. Because cooking can be hard work, but if you treat it as very rewarding, it's not so hard. Because the kids will like what you're doing, and so will your husband, and so will your friends. It brings happiness and joy all around. I always had a light-hearted approach, although I was very serious about doing things properly.

"One of the most important things is to be sitting around a table, being happy and with friends and laughing. That ingredient is just as essential as anything else. Cooking is very much about people and relationships."

A lifelong socialist, Fulton also believes in improving people's lives by introducing good food into their homes. She laments the fact that organic produce is so expensive, as is meat from free-range animals. Her favourite meal is "usually the last thing I had to eat, which was a cheese sandwich, with bread that my son-in-law Robert made, and proper butter, and a proper heirloom tomato".

As for genetically modified crops, she says: "I want farmers to produce my food, selecting and growing their own seeds, not some laboratory smart-arse." That plain-spokenness is typical. Fulton, who wore blue at her first wedding, has talked candidly about her private life, including three husbands and various lovers. Recalling a restaurant awards ceremony, held at a swanky Sydney venue recently, she tells me: "It was the most boring event I've ever been to."

While Fulton admires Jamie Oliver's work in schools, she has little time for television chefs. "It's all about showmanship, and they're presenting it as reality, when it's far from it. People like Nigella Lawson have an army of assistants." For her part, she confines herself to the occasional TV guest appearance. "Then they're pleased to see you, rather than you being there every week, chopping and stirring away, and grinning."

Named one of the 100 most influential Australians of all time by The Bulletin magazine, Fulton has sold, in total, four million books.

Her latest tome, Margaret Fulton Christmas, combines seasonal classics and contemporary dishes. Fulton, who once lost her eyebrows and lashes while flambéing a Christmas pudding, hopes it will stop friends pestering her for tips on festive mince pies and turkey stuffing.

Watermelon with gin

1 small watermelon
1 cup gin
mint leaves

Cut the watermelon in half, remove the seeds, and scoop out balls of the firm flesh with a melon-baller, or cut the flesh into bite-sized cubes. Pour the gin over the watermelon balls in a bowl, mix lightly, cover with plastic wrap and leave to marinate for several hours in the refrigerator.

At serving time, drain the watermelon well, arrange the balls in chilled glasses, and decorate with mint leaves.

Asian mango and prawn salad

Serves 4

100g beansprouts
100g baby spinach leaves
2 red shallots, sliced lengthwise
1 tablespoon chopped coriander
1 tablespoon chopped mint
¼ cup chopped macadamia nuts, roasted
1 small, very firm mango, sliced into strips
200-300g green (raw) prawns, shelled and deveined

Dressing

1 small chilli, seeded
pinch of salt
1 tablespoon palm or brown sugar
2 tablespoons fish sauce
1 tablespoon lime juice

Combine beansprouts, spinach, shallots, coriander, mint and macadamia nuts and arrange on 4 dinner plates. Crush the chilli with the salt, or using a food processor, chop the chilli, adding the remaining ingredients, processing until well blended. Set the dressing aside in a shallow bowl. Arrange the mango over the salad. Blanch the prawns in a little boiling salted water until they have all turned pink, remove and drain when serving. Toss while still hot in the dressing and spoon over the salad.

Pavlova nests

Serves 8

4 egg whites, at room temperature
1 cup caster sugar
1 teaspoons white vinegar
1 teaspoons vanilla extract
300ml cream, whipped
1 punnet strawberries, hulled and sliced, or 4 kiwi fruit, peeled and sliced, or pulp of 5 passionfruits

Preheat oven to 130C. Line two trays with baking paper. Trace 8 circles 11cm in diameter on to the paper. Beat egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks are formed. Add the sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating constantly, until thick and glossy. Lastly, fold in the vinegar and vanilla. Spoon or pipe the meringue on to the circles. Using a spoon, make an indent in the top of each meringue. Bake for 30 minutes. Leave meringues to completely cool. Store in airtight containers. Add cream and top with fruit when serving.