Ana Megawati
Annabel Crabb, the celebrated Australian broadcaster, cookbook writer, and political commentator, is a figure synonymous with sharp wit, intellectual curiosity, and an engaging approach to both politics and pop culture. Known for her unique ability to demystify complex subjects, Crabb recently delved into the intriguing world of personal and institutional archiving, exploring the fine line between history and hoarding, while also reflecting on her extensive career, from the hallowed halls of Parliament to the intimate kitchens of Kitchen Cabinet, and even a moment of vulnerability in a Logies makeup room.
Unpacking "History or Hoarding?": A Deep Dive into Collections
Crabb’s latest venture, the ABC podcast History or Hoarding?, sees her embark on a fascinating historical exploration of curious objects held within the vast collections of the State Library of New South Wales. This project resonates deeply with her own family’s tradition of holding onto cherished items, a trait she shares with an enthusiastic admission: "Our family doesn’t really throw things out." This sentiment is vividly illustrated by the locket of her paternal grandmother’s hair she carries in her handbag and the two thick plaits of her late maternal grandmother’s hair, preserved from her youth. These personal keepsakes underscore the podcast’s central theme: what makes an object worthy of preservation, transforming it from mere clutter into a valuable piece of history.
The choice of the Royal Botanic Gardens in Sydney as an interview location is no coincidence. Crabb thoughtfully selected it for its status as "the oldest collecting institution in Australia," a living archive that mirrors the systematic preservation efforts of the State Library. This venerable institution, established in 1826 by "a bunch of rich guys in a pub" with a restrictive membership fee and a prohibition on women, has undergone significant transformation. Crabb highlights the inspiring journey of its first two Indigenous librarians, Ronald Briggs and Melissa Jackson, who joined as trainees 34 years ago. Their arrival marked a crucial shift from an era dominated by "white dudes making decisions about what was worth keeping" to a more inclusive approach to documenting and preserving Australia’s diverse cultural heritage. This narrative of evolving institutional memory and the changing custodianship of history forms a compelling backdrop to Crabb’s exploration.
A Persona of Warmth and Relatability
In person, Crabb exudes the same affable and animated energy that captivates audiences on screen and through the airwaves. Her characteristic vibrant yellow raincoat, packed for an overcast autumn day, and a playful popcorn-emblazoned tank top (with a matching skirt, to her children’s mild embarrassment) reflect her distinctive, approachable style. This relatability is a cornerstone of her widespread appeal, particularly among the devoted fanbase of Chat 10 Looks 3, her immensely popular podcast with political journalist Leigh Sales. Known affectionately as "Chatters," these listeners tune in for the podcast’s unique blend of insightful political commentary, discussions on current affairs, and lighthearted banter about pop culture and domestic life – a spectrum that comfortably stretches from Mean Girls quotes to appropriate attire for meeting Michelle Obama. The podcast consistently ranks among Australia’s most listened-to, a testament to its broad resonance and the engaging chemistry between its hosts.
Despite her ease in public, Crabb admits to a particular anxiety: "My worst thing, and this actually causes me genuine distress, is that I’m kind of bad with faces." This candid confession reveals a vulnerability beneath her polished public persona. She recounts a memorable, if distressing, incident at the Logies, where she "cried in the makeup room because I misrecognised about three people in a row, including somebody who played me – the lovely Emily Taheny from [Shaun] Micallef’s program [Mad as Hell]." This anecdote offers a glimpse into the pressures and occasional awkwardness of public life, humanizing a figure often perceived as effortlessly composed.
Formative Years and the Path to Public Life
Annabel Crabb’s journey to becoming one of Australia’s most respected media figures began far from the political spotlight, on a sheep and grain farm in Two Wells, South Australia. Her parents, though not overtly political, instilled in her a pragmatic understanding of policy issues relevant to their agricultural livelihood. This rural upbringing also contributed to her family’s "keeping" philosophy: "You never really throw anything out on a farm," she observes, a principle she personally embodies with her intention to learn kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, rather than discarding chipped plates.
Her intellectual curiosity led her to Adelaide University, where she pursued a dual degree in arts and law. It was there that she met her future partner, Jeremy Storer, now a senior lawyer at the ABC. Following her studies, Crabb embarked on a distinguished career in journalism, starting at The Advertiser covering state and then federal politics. Her career progressed to The Age in Melbourne before she took on the role of London correspondent for The Sunday Age and The Sun-Herald. This international experience provided a broad perspective, sharpening her analytical skills and journalistic acumen.
The ABC Era: Redefining Political Commentary
Crabb returned to Australia in 2007 with her young family, including her first child, Audrey, whose early months in London were described as "quite magical," a "little cocoon" supported by childhood friends. In 2009, she joined the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) as chief online political writer and a presenter for The Drum, quickly establishing herself as a distinctive voice in political commentary.
Her first major hosting role came in 2012 with Kitchen Cabinet, a program that ingeniously blended culinary arts with political interviews. The format sees Crabb visiting politicians in their homes, where they cook a meal for her, and she, in turn, brings dessert. This unconventional approach, designed to reveal the human side of political figures, initially faced criticism for being "too soft" or failing to conduct traditional adversarial interviews. However, Crabb has steadfastly defended her methodology, articulating her strategy in 2023 with a "withering defense": "I use every ounce of my skill to draw them in and make them feel like this is a real conversation, not an interview. That’s why people tell me things." The longevity of Kitchen Cabinet, now preparing for its ninth series, stands as a powerful testament to the effectiveness and public appreciation of her unique interviewing style. It has garnered numerous awards and become a staple of Australian television, demonstrating that intimacy can often yield more profound insights than confrontation.
Advocating for Change: Gender, Democracy, and Social Progress
Beyond her role as a political commentator and interviewer, Annabel Crabb has emerged as a significant voice in social commentary, particularly concerning gender equality and work-life balance. Her pivotal 2014 book, The Wife Drought, sparked a national conversation about the impossible expectations placed on women in contemporary society, highlighting the structural barriers that prevent equitable distribution of domestic and professional responsibilities. The book, lauded for its incisive analysis and relatable humor, resonated deeply with many Australians, contributing to a broader public discourse on parental leave, flexible work arrangements, and the persistent gender pay gap.
While Crabb acknowledges encouraging trends, such as the increasing acceptance of fathers taking parental leave, she maintains that "structural change is not fast enough." She articulates her position with clarity and conviction, making direct eye contact through her distinctive blue cat-eye frames: "I don’t make judgments about the choices that people make in terms of how to organise their lives. My concern is always that where there are assumptions, as there still deeply are in Australian society, about whose proper job it is to look after the children and whose proper job it is to earn income." This nuanced perspective underscores her commitment to challenging ingrained societal norms that perpetuate gender inequality, advocating for a future where choices are truly free from outdated assumptions.
Her dedication to civic engagement extends to demystifying Australia’s democratic system for all ages. Her ABC docuseries Civic Duty masterfully navigates potentially dry subjects, like preferential voting, with her signature wit and approachability, making complex political processes accessible to a wider audience. The series’ personal resonance for Crabb was heightened by witnessing her eldest daughter vote for the first time in 2025, an experience she described as "lovely to watch." Complementing this, her children’s book, There’s a Prawn in Parliament House, offers a whimsical yet informative guide to Australian democracy, ensuring that the next generation is equipped with an understanding of their civic responsibilities. This multifaceted approach to education, from adult docuseries to children’s literature, highlights Crabb’s belief in an informed and engaged citizenry.
The Enduring Value of Keepsakes and Connections
As Crabb concludes her green juice and embarks on a brisk walk through the Royal Botanic Gardens towards the Sydney Opera House, her conversation flows seamlessly between her professional pursuits and personal reflections. She points out a patch of yellow daisies, prompting a fond memory of her mother and grandmother, both "very gifted and devoted gardeners." Their passion was so profound that they would appreciate a "tonne of manure for their birthday," a gift Crabb recalls receiving during her childhood. While she humbly claims not to possess a "green thumb," she found her own connection with her mother through cooking, a shared love for experimenting with new recipes and collecting culinary clippings.
This theme of collecting and memory culminates in her most treasured possession (after her children and dog, of course): a sketchbook she started 18 years ago. Initially a repository for recipes, it evolved into a unique family document, capturing the "funny shit" her children said as they began to talk. "It’s an interesting family document now. They love it. When my daughter turned 18, I had a ready-made speech," she shares, illustrating the profound personal value of such keepsakes. The tradition continues, as her daughter, upon moving to university, "demanded that I start her scrapbook," filled with recipes for her favourite home-cooked meals.
Annabel Crabb’s work, whether through political analysis, social commentary, or intimate interviews, consistently seeks to uncover the human stories and underlying truths that shape our lives. Her personal philosophy of cherishing objects, from grandmothers’ hair to broken plates awaiting kintsugi, mirrors her professional commitment to preserving stories and understanding the forces that shape society. In a world increasingly focused on the ephemeral, Crabb’s enduring appeal lies in her ability to connect the profound with the personal, reminding us that every object, every conversation, and every story holds a unique place in the grand tapestry of history. Perhaps, her daughter’s new scrapbook will become another precious keepsake, adding to the rich family archive and continuing a legacy of curiosity, connection, and mindful preservation for generations to come.
