It was 1998, and I had spent two years running the 400-seat restaurant called Wokpool for Neil Perry.

I yearned to work in a small-scale, intimate-style eatery and business. After a month of rest and re-evaluation, I called Bill Granger out of the blue. I had never met Bill before, nor had I been to his eponymous cafes (at the time he had bills2 in Surry Hills, alongside his original bills in Darlinghurst), but I had certainly heard about them. Fortunately, the timing was right and there was a chef’s position available, so I began working at the original bills.

It was a steep learning curve for this 29-year-old Australian-Chinese chef who didn’t know how to cook scrambled eggs or ricotta hotcakes, the signatures of his restaurants.

“Bill, I am so sorry, but I am Chinese, and, um, we just don’t eat this type of food, we have congee for breakfast. Can you please teach me? I want to learn,” I said to him at the time.

Bill and I hit it off immediately. As well as our obsession with cooking and sharing fresh, beautiful, locally grown, simply cooked, flavoursome food, we had an instant creative connection. I was especially inspired by the beauty and idiosyncratic nature of bills in Darlinghurst; how Bill had made this tiny, jewel of a space so completely and utterly stunning.

Everywhere I turned there was care, beauty and optimism, just like Bill himself.

Like everyone else, I was drawn to the open, natural, casual, sunny vibe of that generous, heartfelt space with its iconic, oversized, welcoming wooden table. Being inside bills simply made me feel good.

Bill was a former art student, and I could see and feel his artistic eye and character in every single aspect of his business. Bill had an extremely high emotional intelligence for someone so young. We were the same age – both just shy of 30 – when we first met.

‘I had never met anyone like Bill, there was connection on so many levels.’

We had countless deep and meaningful conversations about our rich and complex family lives; our unique relationships with our parents; our differing childhood experiences; our love of art and beauty; and our ideas about what hospitality truly means.

I will cherish these memories. Bill made me feel good about my individuality and quirks. One of his greatest qualities was the way he celebrated people and accepted them for who they truly were. Everyone who knew Bill remembers how non-judgemental he was; he saw the sunlight in everyone and every situation.

I had never met anyone like Bill, there was connection on so many levels. I felt like Bill understood my true nature. I went on to become Bill’s head chef for both bills Darlinghurst and bills2 Surry Hills.

Then, in 2000, we joined forces and opened the original billy kwong – an amalgamation of his first name and my surname – in Crown Street, Surry Hills. Because Bill already had two small businesses under his belt, he was able to offer much guidance and support in the opening of billy kwong.

Bill’s father and my mother helped us with the administration, and one of my brothers did the graphic design – it was a true family business.

Bill made an indelible impression on me and my life as a restaurateur. Some 23 years later, in my current eatery Lucky Kwong, I can see “bill-isms” everywhere, in the small, intimate, aesthetically beautiful space, filled with handpicked precious objects and artworks. I want this space to light up our diners’ hearts and souls, just like Bill did for anyone fortunate enough to cross his path.

My heart goes out to Bill’s extraordinary life partner Natalie and their three beautiful children. Amid this unfathomable loss, I know that Bill’s exceptional spirit will continue to shine brightly and deeply for years to come

Kylie Kwong owns and runs Lucky Kwong in Sydney. She and Bill Granger ran billy kwong for a year before Bill moved to London and went on to open restaurants around the world. Kwong ran billy kwong solo until 2019, where she honed her groundbreaking melding of Australian and Chinese cuisine.