Is Kitchen Cabinet past its use-by-date? Don’t write it off yet

On February 22, 2012, in an upbeat double-act, then-Liberal frontbencher Christopher Pyne and former Howard government minister Amanda Vanstone teamed up as subjects on the first episode of Kitchen Cabinet . They were the game guinea pigs for an idea tailored to the skills of the host, Canberra press-gallery journalist and enthusiastic baker Annabel Crabb. Vanstone, recently returned from her ambassadorship in Rome, made tomato pasta; Pyne, a self-confessed clueless cook, barbecued a couple of steaks; Crabb provided a Persian love cake. And an enduring homegrown format was born.

“For as long as I’ve written about politics,” Crabb explained in the opener, “I’ve noticed that you can always get more out of people if you sit down to eat with them. Even the most disciplined politician will soften if there’s food and wine involved. The very best way to get to know someone is in their own kitchen.”

Much has changed in the social and political climate and in the media between the initial, six-episode season and the recently concluded eighth series . In that time, Kitchen Cabinet has become one of the staples of the ABC’s light-entertainment line-up.

Yet, from the start, there have been brickbats: that it’s soft and doesn’t pose tough questions; and that it’s a PR gift for the guests. One 2015 episode, in which then-social services minister Scott Morrison cooked a Sri Lankan curry but wasn’t grilled about his previous policies as immigration minister, drew notable heat. More recently, the critical chorus has included the complaint that the show is old, tired and past its use-by date .

Yet, in these fractured and often-febrile times , we need what this show serves up more than ever. The perspective that it presents on our politicians is different from that available elsewhere. The charges that it’s soft overlook its attributes. And, importantly, it presents a view of politicians as people like us: with homes and families and formative experiences. As well as kitchens. Removed from the combat of political contest, separated from the soundbites and scripted press calls, the subjects are presented as human beings.

That’s a valuable perspective because the world is overloaded with ugly and dismaying examples of what happens when we fail to see those with whom we might disagree , or even actively oppose, as people rather than targets. And the accounts from politicians – especially women – attest to the vile threats and abuse that result from this mindset .

Over the years, I’ve rarely seen an episode of Kitchen Cabinet that didn’t tell me something I didn’t know about its guest or portray the pollie serving the meal – some nervously, some smoothly assured – in an unexpected and illuminating light.

Perhaps, for some viewers, the generally convivial nature of the interactions masks their productive candour. The show set out to be conversational, not confrontational, and it was never intended to be 7.30 , Insiders or, back in the day, Lateline or Q&A.