Darrell lived what he preached. When Darrell’s jerky company The Darling Jerky Co. was targeted by anti-halal protesters, he refused to back down and pander to bigotry, and instead chose to punch back up. He told me, “I’ve had enough of the anti-Muslim sentiment in Australia under the guise of being Australian.”

Darrell created what is arguably the country’s best-known food blog completely anonymously. He hated ego and pretension more than anything else: his favourite pubs were the oldest and emptiest, his favourite food places were mum-and-pop joints that most food critics would never deign to set foot in. His humility was his strength, and it allowed him to develop the largest and most varied food knowledge of anyone I have ever met. I could have listened to him wax lyrical about food forever.

Darrell was one of a kind, in a way that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to truly explain. His zest for life and all its pleasures wasn’t just for his own satisfaction, it was because he wanted to help everyone around him feel pure joy.

The musician Nathan Roche said it best to me: “[Darrell and I] spoke a bit about how Shane Warne [after he died] transcended what it meant to be a public figure; he became something of a saint. I can confirm Darrell Beveridge was also something of a holy figure — he enriched the lives of those that met him, and taught them how to live and be merry.”

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In loving Cook Suck, we agree to question and demand better of the institutionalised and societal norms we have to live with. In loving Darrell, we agree to savour each day as best we can, and bring joy to others as well as ourselves.

In his death, Darrell has left a euphoric stamp on the world to remind us that lust for life is possible and accessible. To honour the effervescent legacy of Darrell Beveridge, and indeed, Cook Suck, let us remember to only ever punch upwards, question everything, love with reckless abandon, and always say yes to another pint.

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