
To a weary traveller, the scene is about as close to a mirage as you’ll find.
We’re in the outskirts of Orange, and today the sun is beating down hard on the parched landscape as the region endures an extended period without rain. Poking through the gorgeous hills is a small cluster of pine trees. They are the oldest inhabitants of Green Hills, Matt Moran’s 1000-acre livestock property. It’s also his hideaway when he’s not running one of Australia’s largest food empires.
Nestled in the shade, on a bed of pine needles, we find Moran studiously watching a cut of his own O’Connor pasture-fed ribeye over hot coals. He has been a mainstay in the Aussie food world since buying his first restaurant at age 22 – the Paddington Inn in Sydney’s inner east. Like many in the scene, Moran started from scratch, leaving school at 15 to land a job at the well-respected Le Belle Helene (now Saveur) in Roseville.

“I would have done anything to get out of school, and I fell into food,” Moran says. “At 15, my goal was to be on the deep fryer. That’s all I ever wanted to do.
“It was one of the country’s top restaurants. I stayed there for four years and I was head chef by the time I was 18. Ambitious little shit I was.”
On today’s menu alongside the perfectly cooked rib eye, Moran has assembled a snapper crudo, tasty stracciatella and moreish mortadella as entrées, together with a heavenly grilled Murray cod and crisp salads. Yet between running several restaurants and his work in media and sustainability projects, Moran concedes he is not ‘on the tools’ as much nowadays.

“I came from a very simple food background – protein and three veg,” Moran explains. “Being a young kid, I was sporty, I was big and I could fight. But being in a kitchen at the age of 15 was very good for discipline. I fell in love with it, became obsessed with it. I lost my teenage years, lost my twenties to working, and I’m grateful that I did.”
Moran made his name in creating Sydney restaurants including Aria, Chiswick and Chophouse, and outside of food circles has built a huge following through self-made television shows like Paddock to Plate.
Across it all, he has been insistent on raising awareness around sustainable farming techniques and the plight of Aussie farmers in general. Green Hills is a wonderful demonstration of both: the farm uses no chemicals and offers refuge to its expansive herds of cattle and pigs via natural wind breaks and progressive farming techniques.

“Once I got to a certain point in my career it was about finding sustainable, local produce,” says Moran, who spent the first nine years of his life on farms in Tamworth before his family relocated to western Sydney.
“That whole side of the producers and the farmer – it just dawned on me one day that I’m only the chef that I am, and the restaurateur that I am, because of the farmer. If we don’t have farmers, I don’t have restaurants.”
In Australia, the demise of independent farming is well documented, yet continues on a negative trajectory. In 1980, there were more than 22,000 independent dairy farms around the country; today there are fewer than 4000.
“I think it’s really important that people realise what farmers do,” he says. “If we keep going the way we are, we’re going to be buying milk from New Zealand.”
Moran is preparing to open a new venue in Sydney’s vibrant Macquarie Street, but his main focus is a sprawling new venue south of Bathurst.
“We’re putting a DA in for Rockley Pub and running a television show alongside it, a bit about the farming and stuff. It’s not Clarkson’s Farm – I think I’ve got a little bit more knowledge than Jeremy Clarkson – but it will be a bit of a drama.”

With so many projects to his name, Moran believes humility and having a good team around him is key – ingredients he happily shares with younger chefs and anyone else willing to listen.
“Surround yourself with people who know how to do it better than you do. Full stop,” says Moran, whose inner circle largely comprises strong, uncompromising women who “tell him like it is”.
“Of course I had an ego in the early days, I thought I was untouchable. You’re not, though. I was very blessed to have really good people around me. I learned a lot of lessons the hard way and I soon listened to people.
“I’m more passionate than ever, I think,” Moran adds. “My job is very different now to when it started. I did the deep fryer last year at Rockley Pub. I got called in one night and I remember putting fish and chips down and thinking, ‘Finally, I got here’.”