We take your privacy almost as seriously as we take reheating seafood — with caution and a touch of fear. When you submit your name, email, or horrifying kitchen confession, we promise not to sell your information to shady third parties, nosy neighbors, or sketchy blokes selling knives on late-night TV.

Any personal data you provide is securely stored using modern encryption, digital duct tape, and a sprinkle of fairy dust. We use it solely to stay in touch, reply to your culinary confessions, and maybe send you a mildly offensive food pun from time to time (with your consent, of course).

We use cookies too — not the choc-chip kind (sadly), but the ones that help our website function and remember whether you've already confessed to putting pineapple in lasagna. You can disable cookies in your browser if you prefer, but things might get a bit weird (like a tuna milkshake weird).

We do not track your every move like a clingy ex. However, anonymous analytics might tell us things like “someone from Hobart just spent 12 minutes reading about deep-fried Weet-Bix” — and frankly, we live for that kind of chaos.

If you ever want to see what info we have about you, change it, or delete it altogether (like erasing the memory of that mayo-and-Milo incident), just contact us. We’ll sort it out faster than you can say “charred pavlova.”

By using this site, you accept these terms and acknowledge that we're just a bunch of food-mess enthusiasts doing our best not to violate any privacy laws — or basic cooking principles. Thanks for trusting us with your data and your weirdest recipes. We won’t let either go to waste.