Blind Tasting: Conversations with Strangers
Ingredients for a Good Chat
I hate conversations about the weather.
I truly do.
I’d rather talk about how much time we waste talking about the weather than hear someone say, “Classic Melbourne weather” (leave her alone at least she’s got versatility).
However, I’ve always found the art of conversation fascinating, especially when someone can throw another person slightly off guard. Like an unexpected flavour in a cake, something unfamiliar but worth exploring. A newfound sense of curiosity.
In my field of work as a podcast producer, crafting the perfect conversation feels like a real art, not only creating an experience for the host or guest, but also for the audience.
One of the things I love about podcasting is that people can tune in on their own time and still feel a sense of connection, through the energy of digital conversation, especially in the busy world we live in.
For one of the shows I work on, I research my guests online, call them, interview them again, do even more digging, fact-check with them, and then compile neatly a single sheet of paper (debatable) with the tightest information and most carefully placed questions, all in the hope of igniting the best energy and the finest answers.
It’s like gathering the ingredients, cooking, and then making the kitchen smell inviting enough for someone to sit down and share something vulnerable, all on a mic that can be heard or seen by millions.
I really love this part of my job. Not only do I learn so much about other people, but I also get to witness those golden, wholesome moments when someone opens up, speaking from a different lens, with full autonomy over how they tell their story.
And yes, these conversations are built for a platform. But there’s something magic about seeing people come together in real time to record and share themselves, whether it’s in front of a microphone or, in one of my personal cases, at the bottom of a pirate-themed bar in Croatia.
Let me explain.
When my mate Eliza and I travelled through Europe for six weeks, we squeezed in two quick Contiki tours.
For those who don’t know: Contiki is a travel group for 20–30 somethings.
Think minimal sleep, maximum walking, plenty of alcohol, and if you're lucky a mysterious Polish bus driver you’re convinced is on the run for something.
We wanted to visit Croatia, but boats hate Eliza. They give her motion sickness.
(RIP my Sail Croatia moment. Iykyk)
So we settled on a nice waterfall tour through Slovenia.
These group tours can feel painfully awkward at first, but it’s kind of amazing how quickly you get to know people through what might seem like silly little conversations. But because of my job, I love asking even the strangest questions, seeing if people lean into the opportunity to connect. Then bringing that energy of what I’ve learnt back with me to the world of podcasting.
The idea of meeting this many people at once, in a space where everyone is realistically feeling like their best selves, is a dream. It’s an open invitation to dive into people’s minds without the fear of making a fool of yourself.
One conversation, in particular, became a favourite of mine for its beauty in simplicity and silliness:
“If you were a building, what kind of building would you be?”
I know.
You’d think we’d run out of things to talk about.
But the answers? Chef’s kiss.
“I’d be a clock tower, so people had an excuse to look at me.”
“I’d be a cinema, somewhere people can go for entertainment, because I’m so funny.”
“I’d be a normal house, because I like my home.”
Simple responses, but wonderfully revealing. I felt like I was being given these beautiful little windows into how people think, how they see themselves. And since we all spend so much time in our bubbles, it’s easy to forget how important it is to pop them now and then.
Let a little air in.
I saw people soften as they spoke, encouraged by the faces around the circle.
"Ooh that’s a good one."
"Ah fuck yeah, I can relate to that."
It melted into a delicious form of conversation and creative freedom.
And the space we gave that conversation? No phones. No Googling to check if someone was right or wrong, no “But why do we need clock towers when we can look at our phones?”, just pure speculation, play, and sillies.
Just imagining a world where we were all buildings.
And if you’re open to it, buildings turn into homes, homes turn into family stories, family stories turn into sharing that time your sister would do Singstar concerts in the lounge in an incredibly deep pitch to match that Nick Cave in that song from the '90s… and maybe, just maybe, you’ve introduced someone to their new favourite song.
But honestly? Meeting new people can still be really fucking hard.
The hyper-individualised world we live in can create these weird unspoken expectations, whether you know someone or not. And with social media algorithms doing their thing, I’m sure there’s a study out there showing that casual conversations are triggering our fight-or-flight system more than ever.
Even as a raging extrovert, I’ve noticed how easily simple questions can land wrong.
Ask someone their favourite book, it might trigger insecurity about their intelligence because they don’t like to read.
Compliment a haircut, it might feel like a comment on their appearance.
Ask someone’s star sign, and suddenly you’re being lectured on the stupidity of the cosmos (It’s giving Sagittarius.)
And sure, I’ve snapped too.
On a bad day, someone might ask why I’m late and suddenly I’m defending my entire existence.
All valid. But at times we’re still all walking on eggshells, like the wrong answer, or even an honest one, might get us into trouble.
There’s so little room left for curiosity or growth. Everything feels dissected.
And while we can’t always control our reactions, I’d like to think we can start paying more attention to intention.
Looking at the context of a conversation, asking where it's coming from.
Obviously, if someone’s being a dickhead, don’t engage, that’s important.
But if they’re not? Ask more questions. Learn someone’s family recipe. You might borrow a spice or two, or just enjoy discovering what’s out there.
I wrote this because I don’t want us to forget how romantic a conversation can be.
Say things like “play with me” or “indulge me for a second.”
Let people drop their guard around you and give yourself permission to do the same.
A bit of hypothetical chit-chat isn’t the end of the world.
(Again, no dickhead policy.)
Because once you move past the uncomfortable bit of putting yourself out there, that’s when the good content starts to come through.
Cook up a conversation, listen and maybe… try a different kind of dessert.
Pretty please share some of your favourite conversation starters :) xx
Also, we could go deeper into sociology, mental health, AI, upbringing etc.
But really, I’d just love to have a conversation with you about it one day.
Maybe over cake?
Listened to whilst writing: The seagulls outside my bedroom window.
(I live nowhere near a beach… what the fuck xx)
What are you watching? Basic but telling x
if you could be any baked goods, what would you be 💌☕️🍰