FROM Sydenham to the world, chef Shane Delia has plans to turn his city restaurant into a global empire, writes SIMON PLANT.

Most weekday mornings, Shane Delia drives from Sydenham into Melbourne’s CBD and guns his silver Mercedes CLS into a Flinders Lane carpark. His Middle Eastern restaurant Maha is just a few metres away but before Delia descends into its kitchen, the 34-year-old celebrity chef checks his mobile for a staff report on what happened the previous night.

Delia explains: “At the bottom of each report, there are three people’s phone numbers. Someone from the six o’clock sitting, someone from the seven o’clock, another from the eight. All random. So, in the car, I ring ’em and say, ‘Hey, it’s Shane Delia here from Maha restaurant. Just ringing to see how you enjoyed yourself last night’.

“They’re a bit shocked, usually, but I call them because this is my business. My wife’s name is on the door and they’ve spent their hard-earned money to come to my place when they could have gone to any other great restaurant in Melbourne.”

What do they say?

“Good things mostly. Then you get somebody who says, ‘Yeah, Shane, it was great BUT ...’ That gives me a great opportunity to correct the situation and turn that person into an advocate for us. Then I go into the restaurant, address the team and make sure that whatever happened doesn’t happen again.’’

Some people reading this will think Delia is a control freak. Others will view his need for instant feedback as a sign of insecurity. What’s certain is Delia’s determination to do things his way.

Armed with a ferocious work ethic and a good business brain, this Maltese-Australian is on a mission to make Maha “the pinnacle of Middle Eastern food in Australia”.

Delia dreams of Mahas in other states, bolstered by a network of “cool urban kebab houses’’. Biggie Smalls, he plans to call them, in honour of a rap star he admires. Looking further ahead, the genial presenter of SBS-TV’s Spice Journey series imagines going global with his signature “soufra” banquets.

“Spice Journey goes to a hundred different countries,’’ Delia says. “Take your pick ... they’re all emerging markets for us. There are a couple of great airlines coming out of the Middle East which I think we’ve got a good synergy with. So, yeah, I’m thinking here AND offshore. Look at Nobu. He’s the pinnacle, I think. An amazing, consistent international brand.’’

You aspire to be a Nobu?

“Who knows? You have to aim high. I’m young, I’m ambitious, I’ll always kick as f---ing high as I can.’’

Are these pide-in-the-sky dreams? David Elia, CEO of hospitality super fund HOSTPLUS, doesn’t think so.

“Shane is constantly coming up with good ideas,” Elia says. “He’s an astute businessman who is not only driven by a passion for all things food but, equally, by a passion to be a successful entrepreneur.

“But Shane is not only thinking of his own success. He’s inspiring young people to enter the industry as well and build their careers.’’ Elia belongs to a “loose coalition” of advisers from the corporate sector that Delia relies on for “honest feedback”.

“Mates” from the world of sport also take his high-flying ambitions seriously.

“I don’t think a man works harder and strives for greater success than Shane does,” Australian test cricketer Peter Siddle says.

Soccer legend Harry Kewell is another fan: “Shane’s right up there ... he could go anywhere in the world with his food — 100 per cent.”

To appreciate just how far Delia has come, you need to know where he started: Deer Park, on Melbourne’s northwest fringe, where migrants settled in the 1970s on housing estates carved out of paddocks along Kororoit Creek.

“My dad (Ted) came here on a boat from Malta when he was 17,” Delia says. “Worked hard, struggled ... Mum, too. When my brother and sister were at school, our parents were both working during the day. They sacrificed so much for us.”

Did you envy kids who were better off?

“I used to think, ‘Why can’t I have new sneakers?’ Little things like that. But, mate, I wouldn’t change my upbringing for anything. My parents taught me values like friendship, respect and loyalty ... things that are really important to me now.’’

Delia remembers family life revolving around food and football — “Strength in hospitality”, the family motto, is tattooed on to his right arm — and the two converged on weekends, when the whole clan barracked for the Bulldogs at Whitten Oval.

“We’d pack some traditional Maltese rolls, park at the Dunlop factory where Dad worked and walk to the ground,” he says. “Watch them lose, usually.’’

These days, Delia is a proud Western Bulldogs ambassador — a passionate supporter who identifies with the club’s underdog status.

“I consider myself a member of the team,” he says. “After a win, there’s an open invitation for the boys to come back to Maha but I’m down in the clubrooms when they lose, too, when they’re covered in mud and blood and bruises.”

Inheriting his father’s love of soccer, Delia is also “heavily involved” with Melbourne City (formerly Heart), thanks to his friendship with Kewell.

“Yeah, I’m Melbourne City through and through,” he says. “It has the same core values as the Bulldogs ... a community club always looking out for what it can do for the community it serves.”

BALD and muscular, Delia is built like a rugby player. His abs — rippling under black tees — benefit from regular workouts at a Richmond gym but up close, it’s the crinkly almond eyes and crooked smile that cast a spell. Meeting him at a football game, Siddle was taken by Delia’s “friendly, boisterous personality’’. “It’s one of his greatest assets, something you immediately warm to,” he says.

Kewell, a regular at Maha when in Melbourne, agrees: “Shane and I met a few years ago at the Melbourne Cup and just hit it off ... from day one, he’s never asked me for anything. That’s an endearing thing about him.’’

The ebullient Delia we see on our TV screens was not always so outgoing.

“I didn’t like my adolescence,” he says bluntly.

“I wasn’t bullied because I was in a migrant community but I was always the underachiever. Un-athletic, overweight, the kid who wasn’t lucky with the chicks.

I had ADD (attention deficit disorder). Just couldn’t pay attention and that frustrated the hell out of me, not to mention Mum and Dad.’’

Worried about their son’s lack of focus, the Delias sought therapy for Shane at Sunshine Hospital but leaving school at 16 to be an apprentice chef (at Eden on the Park) was the move that eased his agitation.

“From the first month of my apprenticeship, I was winning (food) awards and as competitive as hell,’’ he says. “Still am. Every morning, I wake up and I’ve got a goal.”

Graduating to Sofitel’s Le Restaurant, Delia rubbed shoulders with George Calombaris and honed classical skills that suited his next job: sous chef at Yarra Glen’s elegant Chateau Yering.

“I was in way over my head,” he admits. Especially after being promoted to executive chef at just 22. “I’ve always suffered from a bit of depression, a bit of anxiety. So, up in the Yarra Valley on my own with no friends and no family ... it affected me hugely. All I had was work and I didn’t deal with it very well to be honest. I put on weight, I was drinking a lot. Then I met Maha, through my sister, and things turned around.”

Maha, of Lebanese descent, was taken with Delia’s talent, cheekiness and single-minded drive. Delia, in turn, was captivated by her charm, poise and optimism. They wed in 2007.

“Being with Maha made me go, ‘Come on, pick up your f---ing feet and start running’,” he says. “From that point on, I got back in the gym, spent more time with my family and refocused on my career.’’

Free of fine dining, Delia thought of opening a bistro serving contemporary Middle Eastern mezze (snack) dishes inspired by his Maltese heritage and Maha’s Lebanese family. Calombaris — coming to prominence with The Press Club — had a similar idea and proposed a partnership with his new MAdE Establishment group.

Maha, in Bond St, opened in 2008 and its sub-basement space — part-shisha pipe courtyard, part-kasbah dining room — proved ideal for Delia’s mod take on Levantine fare. His 12-hour lamb shoulder with sumac was an instant hit.

“But I wasn’t a restaurateur,” he says. “I was a chef thrown into a restaurateur’s position and learning a helluva lot from George (Calombaris).’’

The five-year partnership with MAdE ended in April last year, when Delia became “the 100 per cent owner of Maha restaurant”. Calombaris is travelling and was unavailable for comment for this story but the way Delia tells it, “George had his vision of where that partnership needed to be and I had mine. My own stories”.

Coincidentally, Delia was telling some of those stories in series one of Spice Journey, “a chef’s odyssey through Malta, Lebanon and Iran”. The three-month shoot came just weeks after Maha gave birth to their second child, Jude. Daughter Jayda, 5, was born in 2009. Delia has Maha’s name tattooed on his left tricep.

Travelling in Iran, he added Jude to his right forearm amid a thicket of flowery tendrils. “They’re floral motifs from Persian rugs, to do with family,” he explains. “Reminds me of what I’m fighting for.’’

Spice Journey gave Delia high media visibility. SBS TV spruiks him as one of its “dudes of food” and had him clowning around on Jimeoin’s World Cup soccer show The Full Brazilian.

A born networker, Delia has also forged a partnership with Peter Rowland Catering to create “bespoke menus” for special events. He was already embedded with the big end of town, cooking for corporates at Flemington’s Birdcage and the Formula One Grand Prix Paddock Club.

But the Rowland connection helped earlier this year when Treasurer Joe Hockey was looking for a young multicultural Australian chef to cook dinner for 20 finance ministers in Washington (see story, left).

Much as he enjoys the “creative diversity” of these commissions, Delia insists, “Middle Eastern is my brand ... that’s who I am, that’s what I’m good at”.

Ideas for new dishes come thick and fast. Delia traps them in a Moleskine diary, all doodles and jottings, and is notorious for emailing kitchen colleagues at three in the morning. It’s the least of his failings, he says. “I swear, I cuss, I’m vain, I love fast cars and speed ... I do all those things. I’ve done some stupid, stupid s--- and I’m very lucky that Maha is so understanding and supportive.’’

Being a Catholic, does he confess his sins?

“There have been times, especially over the last three years, when I’ve sought some (spiritual) guidance ... it’s put me on the right path. I feel I have matured as a cook, as a father, definitely as a husband.’’

Striking a balance between home life and business continues to be hard. Delia walks Jayda to school each day and devotes Saturday mornings and Sundays to the family. But Maha needs to organise “date nights” so she can dine with her husband.

No wonder the pair are planning to move out of Sydenham — where the Delia family lives, two blocks away — and buy a house closer to the restaurant.

“It’s not that we don’t like it here,” Maha stresses, “but it’d be so nice to have Shane come home at five o’clock, have dinner with us, then go into work. He can’t do that when he’s a half-hour drive away.’’

Access to private schools is also shifting their focus inwards. As Delia puts it: “My parents did the best they could for me with what they had. Now, I want to do the same for my kids. If it means leaving the nest, so be it.”

Maha restaurant will soon turn seven. Delia reckons that’s the right time to “re-imagine’’ his souk diner, seek out a second site in Melbourne, and lay the groundwork for “a fun, accessible offshoot that reflects my personality ... my music, my love of sneakers’’.

Asked if he’s ready to step up a level, he says: “I’ve suffered from mental depression and lack of self-confidence and all those things but I feel now that’s not an issue. I’ve moved past that.”

So, you’re ready to take on the world ...

“I feel strong at the moment, mentally and physically, and I need to be strong to do what I’m setting out to achieve. I don’t just mean achievement in business either. To be a good father, a good brother, a good husband, I need to be here with strong legs to stand on.’’

On Saturday nights, Delia finishes late at Maha. So heading up the Melton highway in his Merc, hip hop blaring, he often detours to a favourite Asian cafe in St Albans and slurps pho under the fluorescents.

“There, I’m just an ordinary guy,” he says.

And is that when he turns his mobile off?

“Nah, mate. Never know who might call.’’

Shane Delia’s Spice Journey Turkey premieres on SBS on Thursday at 7.30pm

MAN BEHIND G20 BANQUET

YOU’RE in Washington for the G20 conference and hosting a lavish dinner for world economic leaders. Which chef are you gonna call?

Joe Hockey chose Shane Delia. Perhaps Australia’s Treasurer was attracted by Maha’s Middle East orientation. His own family comes from that part of the world.

Delia is not sure but he was “extremely flattered” to be chosen and pulled out all stops

for the $50,000 banquet in April using barramundi, Wagyu beef and “eucalyptus ice”

dressed with Tasmanian leatherwood honey.

Afterwards, Hockey copped plenty of flak in the media for hosting the dinner at taxpayers’ expense but the only heat Delia felt was in the kitchen: he had just two

weeks to source produce, ship it across the Pacific, and organise a kitchen brigade.

“Yeah, pretty quick turnaround,” he says. “But what a great

opportunity to show Australia to the world.’’

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