There are people who shape a place not by being loud, but by paying attention.
Kenny Weir was one of those people.
Last week, Kenny lost his battle with cancer — a journalist, father, neighbour, and one of the west’s most enduring champions of local food culture. For many years, through his blog Consider The Sauce and through his contributions for The Westsider, Kenny documented the everyday, extraordinary food stories of Melbourne’s west with warmth, generosity and deep curiosity.
Long before food blogs were driven by algorithms, Kenny was walking — and eating — his way through the inner and outer, western suburbs of Melbourne. He was there before Instagram made “hidden gems” a marketing category, before influencers became arbiters of taste. Kenny’s approach was simpler and more human: show up, sit down, listen, eat — and then write with care.
His reviews were witty and direct with pricing to help guide your decisions. Simple descriptions of dishes and flavours, and unfiltered photos that gave you an honest look at food on a plate.
“Go somewhere you’ve never eaten. Order something you’ve never had.”
Kenny Weir
Kenny moved to Melbourne’s west from Dunedin, New Zealand, and made it his home. His blog wasn’t about trends or rankings; it was about community. He wrote about places run by families, by migrants, by people pouring their lives into small kitchens and modest dining rooms. He never wrote anything negative — not out of avoidance, but because his aim was always to lift up, never tear down.
As he explained in his own words, the rule was simple: go somewhere new, order something unfamiliar. Often, he shared those meals with his son Bennie, turning food into a way of exploring the world together. It was a philosophy that extended far beyond the plate — an ethic of openness, curiosity and respect.
Through Kenny’s writing, many of us were introduced to cuisines we didn’t grow up with, restaurants we might have walked past, and communities whose stories are too often overlooked.
“He expanded our sense of what the west was — one meal at a time.”
Kenny’s legacy remains — in his writing, in the restaurants he supported, and in the way he taught so many of us to look more closely at our own neighbourhoods.
We extend our deepest sympathies to Kenny’s family, friends, and the many readers who felt they knew him through his words. The west is richer for his presence, and poorer for his loss.
Thank you, Kenny, for your generosity, your curiosity, and your deep love for this place. We’ll keep following your rule.
