Yotam Ottolenghi serves up garlic gags and aubergine advice in Auckland

The garlic got the first laugh – and the last.

Cooking onstage at the Aotea Centre, Yotam Ottolenghi talked the audience through the steps of his chickpea stew. "Put a little garlic in..." he said, while tipping a big bowl of bulbs into bubbling olive oil.

It was a moment of unexpected comedy for both the audience and the host of An Evening with Yotam Ottolenghi.

As he sizzled garlic and dropped feta into copious amounts of olive oil, Ottolenghi peppered his talk with tips and insights into his own kitchen experiences.

Living in London with husband Karl Allen and their two sons, the acclaimed chef has 11 bestselling cookbooks and an avid following of Ottolenghi graduates.

He uses bold Middle Eastern and Mediterranean flavours. Ten of these 'Ottolenghi' ingredients are listed in his cookbook Simple, of which I routinely have five in my pantry if I'm lucky, including one he is liberal with, the herb and spice blend za'atar.

He includes meat dishes but leans towards vegetables in his cooking - he once cooked celeriac at a meat festival.

Ottolenghi wants to make cooks feel comfortable, to give things a go and be prepared to make mistakes along the way.

His next cookbook Simple Too is out in September, and the live show featured some of its recipes.

Ottolenghi did his cooking on a small table off to the side of the stage, which was beamed onto a big screen. The aromas didn't waft very far, unfortunately.

Landing in New Zealand after 10 days of shows in Australia, Ottolenghi had ditched the knives after a close call with his thumb onstage and arrived in Auckland with only two of the three bags he needed.

But sharing mishaps was part of the gig.

His team trials recipes every day in the Ottolenghi test kitchen in London, which he says has a "corner of shame" for the ones that don't work out (but still get eaten).

The key to being a good cook, he says, is to learn the basics, repeat those until you're confident and learn from your mistakes.

The audience shared, via a QR code, their most shameful moments in the kitchen. The mum who tried to cool down her Peking duck by tying it to the ceiling fan. The dinner baked with Gladwrap still on top. The sorry soul who tried to make a falafel lasagne.

Hosting is stressful, even for the Ottolenghi of this world, the chef says. And he feels the weight of expectation when friends and family come for a meal. He recounted one dinner party when he accidentally left a dish in the oven for four hours and found it blackened.

His roast chicken is perfect, though – thanks to a little baking soda added with the salt to dry-brine it before roasting.

As a self-described Ottolenghi graduate, I learned a few things.

Broccoli and cauliflower are not interchangeable. Vinaigrette is a "lifesaver for vegetables" - pop it on roasted veg while they're warm.

I parboil my potatoes before roasting, but the master puts garlic cloves and hard herbs (rosemary, for example) in the water to infuse flavour.

Anything else (like za'atar) is added in the last 10 minutes of roasting, or drizzled on top (like tahini or feta) when out of the oven.

Potatoes, to Ottolenghi, are a "perfect friend that will take on anything and never argue back".

In his upcoming cookbook, the Jerusalem-born chef shares a meatball recipe that reminds him of a soup he loved to get at a market stall as a child.

After training at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, Ottolenghi began his career as a pastry chef before co-founding the first Ottolenghi Deli in Notting Hill in 2002.

Visiting Auckland for just one live show, the chef gave his audience an opportunity to ask questions via a QR code. The 271 that came through stacked towards aubergines. (How to chop them? 3cm thick. How to cook them? Roasted in lots of oil, salt and pepper.)

And then came the inevitable question from the audience: "What is za'atar?"

Ottolenghi took that graciously but had the last laugh, taking off the lid of the chickpea stew.

"I can smell it. All the garlic you thought I overdid."