It’s an unusually warm and windless autumn morning in Wellington Te Whanganui-a-Tara. By midday, the regular Tuesday crew of volunteers start streaming into the commercial kitchen of LTD., an events space on Dixon St metres away from the Cuba St hospitality precinct.
Head chef El Robbins greets her kitchen prep volunteers with waves and hugs, then inspects the produce boxes lined up on the stainless-steel benchtops. She spots bruised and blemished plums, cracked hazelnuts, day-old unsold bagels, misshapen chillies, slit carrots and split ginger, spring onions with torn leaves. She checks the walk-in freezer and eyes the frozen salmon.
With her team, Robbins will transform these perfectly edible ingredients otherwise destined for landfill into tonight’s nutritious three-course set menu at Everybody Eats. Housed at LTD., the koha-based restaurant feeds people from all walks of life. Customers pay any amount they can – or nothing at all – for these dinners.
Beyond converting food waste into restaurant-quality meals, Everybody Eats fosters a place where people from different classes, cultures and circumstances engage and interact, cultivating an inclusive community that nourishes body and spirit.
Nick Loosley conceived the idea in 2015 while doing research for his master’s degree in green economics in the UK. He visited different projects there as well as in Spain, learning about ways to repurpose surplus food into meals that would feed those who need them.
Returning to Aotearoa two years later, Auckland-raised Loosley used his previous restaurant experience – he had owned The Gables and Hone’s Gardens restaurants in Russell, Bay of Islands – and brought the Everybody Eats concept to life. It started with a pop-up on Auckland’s Karangahape Rd before taking up permanent residence in Onehunga in 2019. That flagship restaurant now serves diners Sunday to Thursday from 6-8pm.
Buoyed by the success of Onehunga, Loosley decided to expand and launch in Wellington in 2020 as a one-night-a-week Tuesday pop-up, which then evolved into regularly serving diners Sunday to Wednesday. The Te Whanganui-a-Tara restaurant went on to win the health and wellbeing award and was named supreme winner at the 2023 Wellington Airport Regional Community Awards. Last year, another Auckland location opened at Tātou, in Glen Innes.
The Everybody Eats mission is threefold: tackle food waste, beat food poverty and combat social isolation. A survey conducted by Rabobank and food rescue organisation KiwiHarvest in 2022 found NZ households spend more than $1500 a year on food that goes to waste – that’s $3.2 billion of food binned annually across the country.
Meanwhile, the cost of living continues to increase, hitting those with low incomes the hardest. In the Salvation Army’s latest state of the nation report, 40% of Pasifika households with children said food runs out “often or sometimes”, followed by 35% for households that have children living with a disability and 21% for households with children under 15.
Alongside that, Stats NZ’s 2021 wellbeing statistics indicate mental wellbeing in Aotearoa has declined. Close to half of the nation’s population experience feelings of loneliness at times.
“A lot of people suffering from food poverty are not in a position to be able to cook and provide meals for themselves,” says Loosley. “They’re also struggling socially. “The idea of Everybody Eats is to utilise food waste to help solve food poverty, but also to provide people with a dignified experience where they don’t have to worry about food and can focus more on social interactions with volunteers and other customers, which is probably more meaningful than the food that goes in their stomachs.”
Feeding bellies, not bins
The Everybody Eats supply trail in the capital begins with food rescue group Kaibosh. At its city depot, crates and boxes of donated produce from supermarkets, cafes, restaurants and other food businesses litter the warehouse-like space, ready to be checked, sorted, packed and allocated, based on a charity’s needs.
“We’ll do the logistics of finding and redistributing food so the organisations we work with can focus on their core mission – whether it’s helping kids get through school, housing or social services,” says Luke Campbell, Wellington City operations manager for Kaibosh.
Every Monday and Tuesday morning, Lauren Dinnage visits Kaibosh to collect the half dozen or more pre-packaged fruit and vege boxes allotted for Everybody Eats. Wednesdays are pickup days from Kiwi Community Assistance, another food rescue group, and Sundays for New World Willis, which supplies baked goods and deli and dairy products, and occasionally pasta.
“These are all surplus food – sometimes the bag is split or a lid is opened or it’s past the best-before date, so they can’t put it on shelves and sell it,” Dinnage says.
She volunteered at Everybody Eats for two years before being hired as a staff member in charge of food rescue. “I wanted to be part of something bigger, but you have to fix your own backyard before you can fix the rest of the world, so this is where I can start.”
In the kitchen, Robbins devises the day’s dishes from Dinnage’s haul. “We work with whatever comes through the door, so it’s always a challenge,” Robbins says. “We might have too much or not enough of an item, or get a glut of the same ingredient over and over again. But that’s every chef’s dream – to come up with new recipes every day. It’s a creative outlet for me. I get to experiment and try things.”
Soon, the kitchen becomes a hubbub of slicing and dicing, frying and roasting, chatting and cooking.
Glenn Dunbier, a former deputy commissioner of police, has been an Everybody Eats volunteer since retiring last year after nearly 37 years in the police. “I was in charge of people for the last 20 years, [but when] I come in here, I’m just one of the gang,” he says. “I like the ethos of this place and the mindfulness of being in the kitchen and chopping. It’s quite nice and peaceful.”
For newer volunteer Nisha, it’s her third shift, and she sees herself coming in more often. “I like cooking and I have a lot of fun. It’s a day well spent.”
Anyone can volunteer for Everybody Eats, no matter their skill level or culinary experience. “The beauty of having such a variety of people with a huge spectrum of skills means chefs or home cooks can buddy up with those who don’t have much experience and they can all learn together,” Robbins says.
Even as head chef, she still gleans a thing or two from her volunteers. “They have different ideas, and sometimes, food comes into the kitchen that I’ve never seen before, but they might know what to do with it. It’s just amazing to be learning and constantly sharing.”
Robbins was also a volunteer before helming the Wellington restaurant after a decade of being a chef. Her career spanned other restaurants, catering, retreats and events. “I was experiencing a disconnect with the food I was working with and the people I was serving. It felt really abstract.”
Overcoming hurdles
She joined Everybody Eats as a more concrete way of bringing about positive change through food. “I want to strike a balance, with food being interesting and engaging but also accessible. I want to show customers different ways of using food that they may not have experienced before, but I never want somebody to be intimidated to try the food I’m making. Food should be comforting, not intimidating.”
Like any other food business, Everybody Eats experiences its share of challenges. Funding is a primary one. Loosley admits that “for the last couple of years, we have run at a deficit or very close to break even, which is slightly concerning for the long-term viability of the concept”.
As a result, Wellington restaurant manager Jack Rainey has had to find ways to boost finances, such as applying for grants. On Thursday nights, private organisations can book the restaurant, and it also becomes a venue for Everybody Eats’ own mini-fund-raising evenings.
These can be quiz nights or themed events throughout the year, like the Dining With Pride dinners in March celebrating queer culture and history through food, a dinner in May centred around the humble feijoa, and a soup-focused event for the Lōemis winter solstice festival (which this year runs from June 9-21).
“On a good night, we might be able to raise more koha than we probably can make all week,” says Rainey. “And we’re able to extend our kaupapa. We still use rescued food during events, and even though you have to book a seat, it’s always pay as you can.”
Dine & donate
Everybody Eats is also a registered charity, so people can donate via the website. But the best way to support the restaurants is by dining in, he says. “When you make a donation that’s roughly in line with what you would pay somewhere else for a three-course dinner – even if it’s just $30 – you’ve paid for yourself and two other people, especially those who can’t afford it.”
Another way to help is by signing up on the website as a volunteer. The restaurant has an active roster, with about 15 to 20 volunteers a day. A third take kitchen prep shifts from midday to 5pm and the rest work the front of house and help with service. “Most of our evening volunteers are young professionals. It’s sort of an after-work social activity for them,” says Rainey.
The Auckland restaurants would welcome more helping hands. “We have a huge number of people registered to volunteer with us, but a lot of them don’t turn into hands-on volunteers,” says Loosley, who helps out in the kitchen every quarter, after stepping down as general manager in 2022 but remaining on the board.
This will become a pressing need as Everybody Eats continues to grow. Loosley envisions more restaurants across the motu, including a second in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, a third in Tāmaki Makaurau, and its first in Te Waipounamu.
“We want to grow because the issues of food waste, food poverty and social isolation are not going away,” he says. “But we’re comfortable with growing slowly and carefully. We’re not trying to win the race of doing good.”
Kai as connector
As daylight turns into dusk and the autumn chill sets in, service is about to begin at the Wellington restaurant. Soft amber lights cast a warm glow over the 60-seat space. Communal tables are grouped into three rows and set with silver cutlery, water glasses, salt and pepper shakers and vases of donated cut flowers.
When the doors open, customers pour in. Most are regulars – about 60%, by Rainey’s estimate – who come at the same time every night and tuck themselves into their preferred seats. Others enter alone, in pairs or in groups. Rainey and his team of front-of-house volunteers welcome each one and direct them to vacant chairs, making small talk and introducing them to their tablemates.
The restaurant is abuzz as the kai tīmata (starter) is served: a warm bowl of carrot and ginger soup with croutons. The carrots lend the entrée its bright orange colour, the ginger kicks up the heat and the crisp croutons – cut and fried day-old bagels sprinkled with a spice blend of hazelnut dukkah – supply the crunch.
People settle in and become more comfortable as the kai matua (mains) arrive. The kedgeree makes for a hearty meal: flakes of smoked salmon mixed with lentils and curried rice, topped with slices of soft-boiled egg and garnished with slim rounds of spring onions.
As conversations deepen, kai reka (dessert) is brought in. Bruised and blemished plums are baked into a plum cake, with a swirl of plum sauce, a dollop of yoghurt and a spoonful of plum compote on the side to balance sweetness and tartness.
Dusk changes to dark, and the space becomes a melting pot, catering to an average of 150 diners a night. Some are there to enjoy a meal as they would at any other restaurant. Some are single parents, caregivers and people with full-time jobs who have no time to cook, so it’s a soothing respite from the day’s chaos. Some are experiencing poverty or homelessness, and their dinner serves as their only meal of the day. Some are elderly and others live alone – this might be their only form of social interaction.
“It’s this thing of kai as a connector and kai bringing people together,” says Alex MacGibbon, marketing and communications manager at Kaibosh. “It’s that social connection and holistic wellbeing that comes with feeding people who need it.”
