On a sunny morning in Sydney’s west, a group of people gathers around a classroom table - not with textbooks, but with bowls of grated carrots, walnuts, and purple cabbage. They’re here to make a vibrant beetroot salad dressed with lemon and pomegranate molasses. But while the vegetables are being chopped and tossed, another skill is quietly being sharpened: English.
This is the scene at Navitas Fairfield, where the English for Cooking holiday program has become a lifeline for new migrants seeking both confidence in the kitchen and fluency in everyday conversation.
From textbooks to tasting plates
The brainchild of teacher Hena Mohammed, the initiative began almost by accident. After arriving in Australia in 1999 and qualifying as a teacher, she found herself teaching Level One English in the Adult Migrant English Program - “AMEP” (a free program funded by the Australian Government Department of Home Affairs), and noticed something intriguing.
Beetroot and carrot salad, a dish loved by everyone. Credit: Supplied by Hena Mohammed
“Many English course books have recipes,” she explains. “When you teach instruction, recipes are part of the lesson. One day I thought, why don’t we do something practical? Let’s put what we’ve learned into action.”
That spark has since grown into a full holiday course running four days a week, five hours a day, with up to 20 students each term. Since the course began last year, nearly 100 students have passed through Hena’s cooking-meets-language classroom.
The universal language of food
Lessons begin with vocabulary: kitchen tools, shopping lists, verbs like stir, chop, and fold. Soon, the theory turns deliciously tangible. Students read aloud recipes, troubleshoot unfamiliar ingredients, and then set about creating dishes together.
Cooking with English students making Vietnamese rice paper rolls. Credit: Supplied by Hena Mohammed
One highlight is Vietnamese rice paper rolls, which introduce students to the delicate art of dipping, rolling, and dipping again, along with new English words like soak, wrap, and dip.
“There are times when students don’t know an ingredient because it’s not from their culture,” Hena says. “But here, they discover it, learn how to say it, and then find it in Australian shops.”
The result is part cooking lesson, part cultural exchange.
Voices from the kitchen
For many participants, the course has been transformative.
“The cooking course helped me to understand recipes better,” says Suhaila Dawod, a former student. “We learnt common words used in cooking and discussed them in detail. Now I feel more confident reading instructions.”
Another student, Nazha Kroucht, recalls the recipes she took home.
“I learnt practical dishes I can make for my family, chickpea salad with dill, two-ingredient pancakes, kibbeh with lentils, even mug cakes in the microwave. My children loved them.”
Chickpea salad with dill. Credit: Supplied by Hena Mohammed
These are not restaurant-level productions. Classes are held in a standard room, equipped only with a microwave, air fryer and a handful of utensils. Yet the simplicity is part of the charm. “We don’t need an industrial kitchen,” Hena says. “We use recipes you can make at home.”
Recipes that travel
Of all the dishes, the beetroot salad is a crowd favourite. Its balance of sweet, tangy, and earthy flavours transcends cultural preferences. Students often adapt the recipe, adding their own touches, and proudly share photos of their versions at home.
Another hit is the mug cake: “Just one egg, flour, sugar, cocoa - two and a half minutes in the microwave and you have dessert,” says Hena. “It’s simple, quick, and everyone loves it.”
Chocolate Mug Cake. Credit: Supplied by Hena Mohammed
By linking familiar family dishes with new English words, the program grounds language learning in everyday life.
More than words
Hena is quick to stress the program’s spirit: “This is not about assessments or exams. It’s about having fun and building confidence.”
That ethos has ripple effects. Friendships form across cultural lines. Students leave with practical recipes for their families, but also with the vocabulary to shop, cook, and connect.
Programs like this are rare, but not unique. In parts of Europe and the US, food-based language classes have also taken root, recognising the power of shared meals to break barriers. In Australia, community centres and multicultural kitchens are beginning to explore similar models.
Cooking, culture and confidence
As migration reshapes the fabric of Australia, initiatives like English for Cooking show how integration can be both joyful and nourishing. By combining food with language, students aren’t just memorising verbs, they’re building confidence, friendships, and futures.
And perhaps that’s the recipe for success: one beetroot salad, one mug cake, one rice paper roll at a time.
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