Sean Connolly: Food, Creativity and Rock ‘n’ Roll

Yorkshire-born Sean Connolly isn’t your typical chef. He’s built a reputation on breaking the rules and stripping food down to its essence. Over the past three decades, his no-nonsense approach has shaped award-winning restaurants like Esther at QT Auckland and Sean’s Kitchen in Adelaide. But for Sean, it’s never been about following trends or chasing accolades—it’s about making food that’s honest, memorable, and rooted in simplicity.

“I want every restaurant to feel like my living room,” he says. “It’s about giving people real hospitality—no pretence, no fuss.” Whether he’s reinventing dishes with his minimalist philosophy or shaking up the dining scene with new concepts like “Food of the Sun,” Sean’s focus is on making every meal feel like a story worth sharing. In this interview, he talks about staying true to his roots, finding creativity in tough times, and why he’s still bringing rock ‘n’ roll energy to everything he does.

The last few years have been a bit of a blur, what with COVID and everything else that’s happened. It feels like we’re still in its shadow with inflation and changing business sentiment. How’s it been for you?

It’s been wild, mate. Hospitality is volatile at the best of times, but just as you get over one thing, another hits. We had COVID, then a huge global downturn, and now mortgages are rising, people aren’t going out as much, and restaurants are shutting down left, right, and centre. None of it is good for business. And it’s tough to see. There was carnage during COVID, and now there’s a new kind of carnage going on with restaurant groups closing. It’s never easy seeing others struggle because I’m all about prosperity and being happy for people. I want to see everyone doing well, not just scraping by.

With everything going on, what makes a good restaurateur in your opinion? What sets someone apart?

It’s about making people feel welcome in your space. I treat every restaurant like it’s my home. I give each one its own character, like it’s a separate room in my house. So when people walk in, I want them to feel like they’ve just walked into my living room. It’s that spirit of hospitality—“Welcome to my home, what can I get you?” Being thoughtful in every little moment. The music, the lights, the ambience. And of course, it’s about good people. You need people with the right spirit, who believe in what you’re doing and want to help you tell that story. Good chefs make good restaurateurs when they know how to create that experience beyond just what’s on the plate.

As you’re talking, I’m thinking back to a few different experiences I’ve had at Esther over the last year—a special dinner with my wife and daughter, my wife’s birthday with all our friends and their kids, and more recently, lunch with a delegation from Shenzhen. Each one was so different but each one felt special. What’s your secret to creating those moments?

It’s interesting. If I said to my wife, “I change people’s lives,” she’d roll her eyes and call me a wanker (laughs). But it’s true—you hear people talk about these moments in their lives and they’ll say, “We were at your restaurant, doing this, eating that…” And that’s special.

It’s not about fancy meals, either. I think it’s just the right time, the right mood, the right food… everything just coming together. It’s a bit of magic. I’ve always seen Esther as my front room. It’s where things happen. Even if I’m away, in my mind, I’m always thinking about what’s going on at Esther—the flowers, the music playing. It’s about creating an atmosphere where people feel like they belong, like they’re in your home.

You’ve got such a personal connection to Esther. How does your grandmother’s legacy play into that?

It’s all her, mate. Esther was my grandmother’s name, and she was an incredible woman. She was a great storyteller, loved to laugh, and had this high-pitched giggle that was infectious. We lost her when I was young, but I still get emotional about it. Naming the restaurant after her is my way of honouring her memory and keeping her spirit alive. I tell my staff, “Esther isn’t just a person, it’s a feeling.” Think of someone who’s warm, funny, tells stories, and makes you feel at home. That’s what we’re trying to create. It’s not about having a mission statement on the wall or a corporate vision. It’s about a vibe, a sense of who she was, and bringing that to life through what we do at the restaurant.

You’ve also got your “Food of the Sun” series. What is the creative process?

It all starts with imagination. I’ll close my eyes and picture myself somewhere—say, on a beach in Mykonos. I imagine drinking rosé, eating salt and pepper calamari, and listening to some Greek disco. From there, I build it out. What’s the drink? What’s the dish? Sometimes I’ll start with a complete cliché, like “Greek beach food,” but that’s okay because it’s a foundation. It’s about pulling from all those little experiences I’ve had around the world. I’ve been fortunate enough to travel a lot and every place, every memory, adds something. With “Food of the Sun,” it’s about creating an experience that makes people feel like they’re somewhere else. And it’s fun! For me, it’s about celebrating life—good food, good times, and the joy of being somewhere beautiful.

How do you balance that creativity with the business side? Is there a bit of tension between the hemispheres of your brain?

Oh, for sure. I’ve made my share of financial mistakes, but I’ve never lost my creativity. That’s what keeps me going. Being a good businessman can sometimes get in the way of creativity, but it can also push you to think outside the box. We’ve had to become more innovative at Esther, especially this year. I think creativity often shines brightest through adversity. You find new ways to create a special experience, even if you’re working with less. People can tell when something’s been crafted with love and care, no matter how simple it is. It doesn’t have to be a fancy cut of beef—it could be a piece of offal or something as basic as fresh bread, but if it’s made with passion, it resonates.

You’ve talked about reconnecting with your 20-year-old self recently. What brought that on?

I turned 50, looked in the mirror, and didn’t recognise myself. I was becoming a grumpy old man, trying to fit into other people’s models of what a chef or a businessman should be. And I heard this line: “Never let the old man in the door.” It really hit me. I realised I’d let that old man creep in, and I wasn’t being true to myself. So I made a conscious decision to reconnect with that 20-year-old version of me—the eccentric, outspoken, passionate guy who didn’t care what people thought. I stopped worrying about fitting in and just embraced who I am. I think people pick up on that authenticity. I’m not interested in playing by anyone else’s rules anymore.

What advice would you give to people in any industry feeling that pressure to conform?

Love what you do and find your people. I’ve met so many unhappy people who are in the wrong job or the wrong environment. Just because you’re not fitting in doesn’t mean you’re not good at what you do—it just means you haven’t found your tribe yet. When you find the right people, it all falls into place. Creativity is at the heart of it. Never lose that. It’s what makes you unique. People crave authenticity and creativity, especially now when everything’s become so automated and streamlined.

Any plans to slow down?

(Laughs) Nah, mate. I’m not retiring anytime soon. I want to be like Vivienne Westwood or Karl Lagerfeld—still doing what I love when I’m 80.

 

Experience Esther at QT Auckland