Ninety minutes south of Perth, in the small town of Dwellingup, a mother and daughter have quietly built something that resists easy categorisation — part café, part gallery, part community anchor. Garden Eats began as a space for local artists and grew, organically, into a kitchen with a following, now sustained by family labour and the loyalty of weekly regulars. In a moment when many regional towns struggle to hold people's attention, this place seems to hold it by refusing to treat food, art, or belonging as separate concerns.
Family-run Garden Eats blends art, community and seasonal cuisine in Dwellingup
We offer a space where all people can just chill and enjoy
What made you decide to add a kitchen to an art gallery in the first place?
I think we just saw the need. People were coming to see the art, and they'd be here for hours. There was nowhere to eat, nowhere to really settle in. It felt natural to create that space where art and food could exist together.
You mention that locals come every week without fail. What do you think keeps them coming back?
Honestly, I think it's because we're consistent about what we care about. We're not chasing trends. We're using what's in season, we're supporting local artists, we're making sure everyone can eat here regardless of their dietary needs. People feel that.
Running a family business has to create tension sometimes. How do you navigate that?
It does, but we've learned to lean into our different strengths. My mum's the artist, I manage the café side, my brother cooks, my dad handles everything else. We're not stepping on each other's toes because we each know our lane.
You were frustrated with how other venues treated vegetarian food. Did that frustration drive the whole menu philosophy?
Absolutely. I noticed vegetarian options were always an afterthought, like they were doing you a favor. I wanted to flip that—make vegetables the starting point and build from there. It changed how we think about everything.
What does a "third space" mean to you in a town like Dwellingup?
It's somewhere that's not home and not work. It's where people from different parts of your life can meet and just be. For us, that's locals, hikers, cyclists, weekend visitors—all in one room, all welcome.
The Pulse
- Vegetarian cuisine is too often an afterthought in Australian dining — Ebony Tippett built her menu to make it the centre, not the concession.
- Because Ebony herself is coeliac, every dish on the menu can be made gluten-free — not as a lesser alternative, but as a full expression of the kitchen's capability.
- The café sits at the crossing of two major trails, drawing a steady stream of hikers and cyclists, but it is the unwavering weekly locals who keep the business alive through quieter seasons.
- Local artworks line the walls, fresh flowers dress the tables, and the space carries a deliberateness that signals this was built by people who actually believe in what they are doing.
- Growing tourism to Dwellingup is expanding the café's reach, but the real test will be whether its intimate, values-driven character can hold as more people discover it.
Ninety minutes south of Perth, in the small town of Dwellingup, a mother and daughter have quietly built something that resists easy categorisation — part café, part gallery, part community anchor. Garden Eats began as a space for local artists and grew, organically, into a kitchen with a following, now sustained by family labour and the loyalty of weekly regulars. In a moment when many regional towns struggle to hold people's attention, this place seems to hold it by refusing to treat food, art, or belonging as separate concerns.
An hour and a half south of Perth, Garden Eats occupies an unusual position on Dwellingup's main street — simultaneously a working kitchen, a gallery, and a genuine gathering place. It began in 2019 as a platform for local artists and ceramicists, founded by Monique Tippett, an artist herself, alongside her daughter Ebony. Over time, the gallery grew a kitchen, and the kitchen grew a following. Today the café is a family operation: Ebony and Monique at the front of it, Noah cooking, and their father Peter handling the practical work behind the scenes.
The space feels considered rather than accidental. Local artworks — much of it Monique's own — line the walls, fresh flowers sit on the tables, and the light is warm. But the deeper thought goes into the menu. Frustrated by how other venues treated vegetarian food as an afterthought, Ebony built her menu around vegetables first, then added meat options. Every dish can be adapted to vegetarian or vegan, and because Ebony is coeliac, everything can be made gluten-free — not as a lesser version, but as a full expression of what the kitchen can do.
The café sits along both the Bibbulmun Track and the Munda Biddi Trail, drawing hikers and cyclists through regularly. But it is the locals — people who come every week, rain or shine — who form the foundation of what makes the place sustainable. Ebony speaks about them with genuine warmth, and about the café itself in terms of community and 'third spaces' rather than commerce.
The seasonal menu, the art on the walls, the accessibility built from lived experience rather than policy — none of it reads as performance. It reads as belief. As tourism to Dwellingup grows and more people discover the place, the question is whether that intimacy can hold. If the weekly regulars keep returning and the family keeps working well together, there is every reason to think it can.
An hour and a half south of Perth, on Dwellingup's main street, there's a café that doesn't quite fit the usual mold. Garden Eats sits at the intersection of three things most places keep separate: a working kitchen, a gallery wall, and a genuine gathering space. It's the kind of spot where you might stop for coffee between trail walks, or drive down specifically to spend an afternoon there—and find yourself doing both.
The place began in 2019 as something smaller: a platform for local artists and ceramicists to show their work. Monique Tippett, an artist herself, and her daughter Ebony saw an opening. Over time, the gallery grew a kitchen. The kitchen grew a following. Now it's a destination, run by the two of them along with Ebony's brother Noah, who cooks, and their father Peter, who handles the practical work behind the scenes. It's the kind of family operation where everyone has a clear role, and the friction that comes with that arrangement seems to sharpen rather than dull what they're doing.
Walk in and you notice the deliberateness first. Local artworks line the walls—much of it Monique's own. Fresh flowers sit on the tables. The light is warm. The space feels considered, not accidental. Ebony describes the aesthetic as "down-to-earth and rustic," a reflection of who they are. But the real thought goes into the menu. When Ebony started, she was frustrated by how other venues treated vegetarian food—as an afterthought, a concession rather than a centerpiece. She built the menu around vegetables first, then added meat options so there would be something for everyone. Every dish can be adapted to vegetarian or vegan. And because Ebony herself is coeliac, everything on the menu can be made gluten-free. There's no separate, lesser version of the food for people with dietary needs; the kitchen just makes it work.
This approach—inclusive by design rather than by exception—seems to be what draws people in. The café sits on two major routes: the Bibbulmun Track, a long-distance hiking trail, and the Munda Biddi Trail for cyclists. Visitors come through constantly. But it's the locals who keep the place alive. Ebony speaks about them with genuine warmth: people who come every week without fail, who show up in rain or shine. In a semi-remote town, that kind of loyalty is what makes an independent business sustainable. The tourism is growing—more people are discovering Dwellingup, more are stopping by—but it's the weekly regulars who form the foundation.
There's something worth noticing in how Ebony talks about what they've built. She doesn't use the word "business" much. She talks about "third spaces," about community, about creating somewhere people can "just chill and enjoy the environment." The art on the walls isn't decoration; it's a statement that local creativity matters. The seasonal menu isn't a marketing angle; it's a commitment to what's actually available and good right now. The accessibility—the gluten-free options, the vegetarian focus, the adaptability—isn't virtue signaling; it comes from lived experience and genuine care. Garden Eats works because the people running it seem to actually believe in what they're doing, and that belief is visible in every detail. The question now is whether that can scale as more people discover the place, as tourism to the region grows. But if the weekly locals keep coming, if the family keeps working well together, if Monique keeps making art and Ebony keeps thinking carefully about the menu, there's no reason it can't.
Notable Quotes
For us, it's all about community and providing those 'third spaces' where people can connect.— Ebony Tippett
We've been lucky to have such a tight community here. We have so many locals who come without fail every week, rain hail or shine.— Ebony Tippett