
Heartbreaking moment MasterChef Australia judges break down as contestant Laura Sharrad feels Jock Zonfrillo's 'spirit' on set
Contestant Laura Sharrad, who was good friends with late judge Jock Zonfrillo, had viewers and the cast alike in tears after presenting a seafood pasta dish.
Laura became emotional as Andy, who was also deeply close to Jock, tasted the dish, with co-host Poh Ling Yeow realising that the pair were remembering their beloved mate, who died in 2023.
'I can feel this little electric current running from you to the dish to Andy. And it's Jock. I can really feel it,' Poh said.
Upon making the statement, Poh watched as Andy and Laura became tearful, and Laura was handed a napkin to dab her eyes.
From A-list scandals and red carpet mishaps to exclusive pictures and viral moments, subscribe to the DailyMail's new showbiz newsletter to stay in the loop.
'I'm completely right, aren't I? I can actually feel it,' Poh said, referring to Jock's spirit.
Both Laura and Andy quietly agreed that something special had happened on set, with the dish Laura created reminding them of Jock.
'This dish is so clever because it's such a demonstration of you working smarter, not harder,' Poh complimented Laura.
Earlier this year, Andy shared a heartfelt tribute to his late co-star on the second anniversary of his death.
The celebrity chef, 37, who co-hosted the popular Channel Ten cooking competition alongside Jock from 2020 - 2023, shared a throwback photo to social media of them together and captioned it with some bittersweet words.
'Two years since we lost the great man, Jock Zonfrillo. I miss him more than ever,' Andy wrote.
The precious picture captured the pair beaming together as they proudly held up a string of sausages to the camera.
Many of Andy's celebrity friends took to the comment section to share their support.
Laura became emotional as Andy, who was also deeply close to Jock, tasted the dish, with co-host Poh Ling Yeow realising that the pair were remembering their beloved mate
Jock's widow Lauren posted a love heart emoji, as did celebrity chef Darren Robertson.
Beloved celebrity chef Jock was tragically found dead in a hotel in Carlton, near Melbourne's CBD, on April 30, 2023 - which was also Andy's 35th birthday.
Andy previously revealed the death of his close friend and co-star was the 'hardest time' of his life.
Last year, he opened up about losing Jock and told how it was 'really difficult' grieving in the public eye.
The TV personality candidly revealed it was the first time he had dealt with such a personal tragedy.
'It was the hardest time of my life, I had never had tragedy like that hit me so close, it was very uncharted waters and multiply that by it being in the public eye; it was really difficult,' he told the Herald Sun.
Andy said he didn't give himself a chance to grieve because he wanted to be there for Jock's family - his wife Lauren and their kids Alfie, eight, and Isla, four, as well as his adult daughters Ava and Sophia from past relationships.
He detailed his heavy emotional toll and told how he spent a 'full day crying' after travelling to Sicily to mark Jock's birthday.
'I spent a full day just crying, in a couple of hour-long increments, just having a good old cry, then I would be quiet... then I would go again,' he shared.
Andy said his grief only really hit him twice while shooting the latest series of MasterChef, which was also his first without his close friend Jock.
Andy previously admitted he almost didn't appear on the 2024 season of the cooking contest, but is 'so glad' he decided to push through the grief.
'It was tough. I didn't know if I was going to do it. I'm so glad that I did, but it was hard,' he told The Project.
Network 10 dedicated the fifteenth season to Jock and his family as they aired his scenes posthumously, acknowledging his 'sudden and tragic passing'.
At the time, his wife Lauren was in Italy with their two children and had phoned Victoria Police to request a welfare check because he stopped answering her calls.
Jock's death came just one day before the 2023 season of MasterChef was due to premiere, and it was delayed in arriving on air for a week 'out of respect'.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
The Block contestants slammed by the judges over 'nursing home' bedroom makeover: 'What have you done?'
Robby Libbet and Mat Johnson suffered a nightmarish dressing down from the judges on Sunday's episode of The Block. The lads from Adelaide fell from grace after winning last week when they unveiled their bedroom challenge. Tasked with creating an upholstered bedhead and two kids' rooms, the judges did not hold back once they started their inspection. Judge Marty Fox offered his verdict, 'It looks like an upmarket nursing home.' 'The mood is meh and "I need to have a little bit of a lie down",' fellow judge Darren Palmer added. 'And I may not wake up,' Fox added. They also mocked Mat and Robby's styling choices, which featured a floor lamp positioned directly beside a bedside lamp. All three judges were unanimous when it came to the boys' self-upholstered bedhead, which featured vertical stripes. Clearly disturbed by the bedhead, Shaynna covered her eyes at one point and moaned, 'Oh, boys, what have you done? Still, the judges were slightly more impressed with their second kids' twin bedroom, which was colourfully decorated and featured cuddly toys. However, Mat and Robby appeared to be amused during the feedback section as host Scott Cam shared the judges' comments. 'Darren did say during the bedhead challenge that you would need to style it well to make it work,' Scott told them. 'And you haven't,' he continued, a remark that saw Robby and Mat explode with laughter. The episode ended with Britt and Taz winning the challenge with a high score of 28 for their 'modern contemporary country' style. It comes after last Monday's episode of The Block saw Dan Reilly open up about his heartbreaking family tragedy. The series' foreman kicked off the episode's pre-start meeting with wife Dani, who broke down as they spoke for the first time on television about the loss of their daughter, Billie. The reality TV couple tragically lost their daughter in December last year at just ten days old. 'I guess most people here would know our journey last year. We had our little girl, Billie – she arrived on the eighth of the twelfth last year,' Dan told the assembled cast and crew. 'Due to some... complications through birth, we only got to spend ten days with our beautiful girl, Billie.' To honour their daughter's memory, Dan and Dani have established Billie's Besties, a foundation that aims to raise money for the NICU at the Royal Women's Hospital in Melbourne. The couple struggled to hold back tears as they recounted the harrowing story, and tenderly embraced as the teams also became visibly emotional. Since December, the couple has raised more than $93,000 for NICU support as a tribute to Billie.


Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Channel Seven on the brink of CHAOS as writer's guild row threatens to shut down Home and Away: 'Go on strike'
Home and Away 's writers are on the brink of a legal showdown with Network Seven over what they claim are decades of unpaid superannuation, amid talk of a potential strike. The Australian Writers' Guild is pushing for Seven Productions, which makes the long-running soap, to follow an Australian Tax Office ruling on its members' superannuation entitlements. The ATO found in December last year that film and television writers engaged by production companies to produce scripts work for an employer rather than sell a product. According to the AWG, that means writers of such programs as Home and Away are entitled to superannuation, which they have not received in the past. Writers on other series such as Neighbours, made by Fremantle Australia and screened on Network Ten after its revival by streaming giant Amazon, have also allegedly not been paid superannuation. One Home and Away writer said: 'We should all stop letting Seven treat us like s*** and threaten to go on strike.' Another source who did not want to be identified said the superannuation claim - which would run into millions of dollars - seemed destined to end up in court. 'Essentially, the writers on Home and Away and the guild have known for many years that Network Seven was legally obligated to pay the writers superannuation,' the source told the Daily Mail. 'However, Network Seven have refused, claiming there is no legal basis, despite it being clear in the Superannuation Guarantee Act. 'My understanding is that far in the past Seven did actually pay superannuation to the writers, although I have only heard this anecdotally. 'However, no writer on the show has been paid it in approximately the last 20 years and the same goes for Fremantle/Neighbours.' Neighbours was cancelled for a second time in February, production finished in July and its final episodes will air at the end of the year. Some independent production houses, including Matchbox Pictures - responsible for television dramas House of Gods, The Heights, Glitch and The Slap - do pay superannuation to writers who work on their shows. 'It can be pot luck with who pays it and who doesn't,' the source said. 'But none of those currently writing for Home and Away have ever received super, despite many attempts over the years. 'I do know of an ex-Home and Away writer who went to the ATO in an attempt to force Seven to pay out her superannuation on scripts. However, she only did this once she left the show.' The source said most Home and Away writers are freelancers, even though many have worked for the program for more than a decade, and are concerned about their continued employment. 'The writers are too frightened to speak out over the issue - and other issues - due to the very probable fear they will no longer have a job,' the source said. The Australian Writers' Guild recently spelt out its position on superannuation. 'Writers who are engaged by production companies to write scripts are entitled to superannuation under the Superannuation Guarantee (Administration) Act,' it said in a statement. 'The Act states that if a person works under a contract that is "wholly or principally for the labour of the person" then that person is an employee of the other party to the contract. 'The Act also states that a person "who is paid to perform services in, or in connection with, the making of any film, tape or disc or of any television or radio broadcast is an employee of the person liable to make the payment".' 'Screenwriters engaged to write scripts are expressly stated to be "performing services" and are therefore classified as employees for the purposes of superannuation.' The recent ATO ruling on superannuation is limited to writers contracted to provide services rather than for some other purpose. 'For example, a person engaged to write a script is performing services but one who sells existing scripts is not - they are merely selling property,' the ATO stated. Screen Producers Australia, which represents major local production companies such as Fremantle and Endemol Shine - but not Seven Productions - does not see the superannuation issue as so clear-cut. The body advised its members last year that some writing services attracted superannuation. But it also advised that writers commissioned to pen a script were paid a fee for copyright and the use of their work, rather than for providing a service. The Australian Writers' Guild and Screen Producers Australia are understood to be seeking legal advice. The guild has not ruled out a class action or strike but recognises the latter course could cause considerable financial hardship to its members. Daily Mail approached Seven, Fremantle, the Australian Writers' Guild and Screen Producers Australia for comment but none responded. In May 2023, the Writers Guild of America went on strike over a labour dispute with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers (AMPTP), which lasted 148 days. The writers wanted a greater share of the payment of residuals from streaming services as well a limit on generative artificial intelligence. In July 2023, the Screen Actors Guild - American Federation of Television and Radio Artists joined the action against AMPTP and stayed on strike until that November. The combined strikes caused the biggest interruption to the American film and television industries since the Covid-19 pandemic. Both unions eventually ratified new agreements with production companies which secured major concessions for their members. Daily Mail revealed last week that veteran Home and Away scriptwriter Fiona Bozic was suing Seven after working for the network for more than 20 years. Bozic filed a statement with the Federal Court under breach of general protections provisions in June and is being represented by Thrive Workplace Consulting & Legal. According to LinkedIn, Bozic is a script producer and scriptwriter for Seven on programs including Home and Away, and previously wrote for Neighbours. 'My responsibilities are broad and primarily focused on overseeing the creation of engaging, creative and compelling storylines,' her LinkedIn profile states. 'I have contributed to a variety of story themes that are appealing to diverse audiences, including domestic violence and mental health trauma. 'With responsibility of creating a detailed plot for five episodes a week, I am heavily involved in structuring episodes, creating characters and recruiting script department personnel who can add value to the process.' Bozic declined to discuss her specific claims against Seven when approached by the Daily Mail last week.


The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
Tim Minchin looks back: ‘Entertainers say we want to change the world, but really we just enjoy being clapped'
Born in 1975 in Northampton and raised in Perth, Australia, Tim Minchin is a musician, comedian, actor, writer and director. Starting out in musical theatre, he turned to comedy in 2003, winning the 2005 Perrier best newcomer at the fringe. In 2008, the Royal Shakespeare Company commissioned him to write music and lyrics for a stage adaptation of Roald Dahl's Matilda – it has since won seven Olivier awards and four Tonys. He is married with two children and lives in Sydney. His new album, Tim Minchin Time Machine, is out now. Matilda the Musical is playing in the UK and Ireland. As photos were so rare in the 80s, compared with now, there's a formality to my physicality here. I look proud, but as I didn't like primary school, I would have been unhappy that it was time to go to class. I found the whole school experience very scary. I was a sickly kid. Not in a Dickensian way – I didn't have consumption – but I wasn't very hardy. I had asthma and allergies and I was quite deaf for a lot of my childhood. Because of that, I'd get in trouble for not listening in lessons, when in reality I couldn't hear what the teacher had said. Physical ailments aside, I was a gentle, sensitive child. So much so that my mum was surprised about what happened to me professionally. She'd say: 'But you were my little cuddly one!' As well as having loving parents, I was lucky with my siblings. I grew up with an older brother who's also a soft guy – we wrestled and played outside, but he wasn't a big frightening presence that I had to develop armour to survive. After primary school, I went to an all-boys' school where I was a soprano, and pretty good at theatre, too, although I didn't get the lead roles. I loved sport and was really good at hockey, and always in the top teams. I wasn't a prefect, and I sometimes got in trouble for being cheeky. I had a privileged education and received the sort of confidence you get with that, but I don't think I'm a monster. It wasn't Eton. Anyway, I think how you turn out has much more to do with what's happening at home, and my family was totally plugged in: disciplined but attentive. There was a fair bit of Von Trapp stuff going on around the house, too – a piano, some intergenerational harmonising. But that drive to become an entertainer truly came from a fundamental need for affirmation. I wanted people to like me, and I wanted to show that I was clever. Maybe it's also because I am a second child with an outstanding older brother, but mostly it's in the wiring. Not many people admit it: actors, musicians, writers, they all talk about how they want to change the world, or that they are a storyteller. But, essentially, we just like being clapped. As a teenager I was compulsively meta-cognitive, which might make me appear self-important or smug, but it took me years to realise that not everyone is always thinking about their thoughts. Despite that, I wasn't very navel-gazing. I wasn't particularly cool or uncool. I didn't fit into any cultural tribe and I was definitely not a rebel. I think it's a family thing: I never felt like I was the black sheep or had the instinct to kick against or pull away from them, like: 'Fuck my middle-class parents! Fuck my really nice, kind, hard-working dad! Fuck my slightly bonkers but incredibly passionate mother!' I never really had a dream, either, but I definitely had a defiance – I was sure I was going to keep writing. I started doing musical theatre at 18, and I noticed that people cried at my songs. I realised I could do something that not everyone around me could do. Because I was in Perth, I thought: 'Well, if I'm good in Perth, when I move to Melbourne, there'll be 100 other guys like me.' Then I moved and, while there were lots of talented people, I kept waiting to find people who were much better than me at whatever the fuck it is I do – an act I've since defined as a science-obsessed rhymey pianist singer-satirist wanker – but they weren't in Melbourne, either. When I was in my 20s, I met Eddie Perfect, a rising star in Melbourne cabaret. I would play piano for him, and in between songs, my instinct would be to make people laugh, just by being self-deprecating. So then I could bill myself as the piano and comedy guy. At the end of 2004, I decided to change my appearance – I looked like a mad genius with the big hair and makeup, and everything clicked into place. It also helped that I was talking about science and we were in a post‑9/11, new atheism world. My shows were super-nerdy, data-driven, pointing out logical fallacies, while also being sentimental and loving and musical. I had a worldview and a look – and people liked it. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion I was 30 when my career properly took off. Then Sarah, my wife, got pregnant and we lost the pregnancy. This was hard, grown-up stuff, but it became the greatest gift. Being a little older, I had the tools to make smart choices. I never suddenly fucked other people or took drugs. Having a partner who's not sucked into the industry also made it easier. Sarah has an unflinching ability to not really give a fuck about the celebrity side. She looks hot in a dress, but red carpets are not her thing. Because of that, I never had a real wobble with fame. What I mainly struggled with was the concept of being perceived. Of wanting to be seen your whole life, and then being properly seen and then told what you are. My act's been called both 'genius' and 'bullshit that only dumb people find funny'. Because of this, I haven't read a single review for years, no articles, no Google. If I do, there's a psychic repositioning that takes place, and it takes years, maybe for ever, to realign. I got a phone call yesterday from an agent saying: 'You had two absolutely amazing Matilda reviews today.' I replied: 'Don't say that, because now I want to read it, and there will be one sentence that says, 'In the second act, it lags a bit', and that will ruin my day.' Tomorrow, instead of being engaged with the audience, I'll be thinking about a reviewer. The fragility is pathetic. Matilda arrived in 2008, right at the height of my comedy fame. I worked quickly, as Sarah was pregnant with Casper – six weeks to write 10 songs. The show's success gave me money to make braver creative choices, which in turn have been successful. But it all comes with constant anxiety. Four weeks ago, at the start of the latest Matilda tour, I was unrecognisable. Heavy and sick, because of the stress of selling 100,000 tickets to a show that you have to will into existence. Now the show is up and going, and I am running every day, eating properly – I feel as good as I've felt in my life. As I've gotten older, I've realised the motive is not to be revered and applauded, but to spend a life trying to put human feelings into song and poems and text, TV scripts and performances. To confront and seduce, to make an audience laugh and think and cry. That's what the art is for.