She Fed Them Lunch… And They Never Came Home | Erin Patterson & The Mushroom Murders

On a cold July afternoon in 2023, Erin Patterson invited her family over for lunch in the small town of Leongatha, Victoria. On the table: Beef Wellington. Inside it: one of the deadliest mushrooms on Earth. Hours later, three people would be dead, and Erin would become known worldwide as the Mushroom Murderer.

This episode of GBRLIFE Of Crimes, takes you inside the story. From Erin’s quiet childhood, to her strained marriage, to the infamous Sunday lunch that poisoned her in-laws. We’ll unpack the investigation, the historic trial, and the psychology of poison: why women so often choose this subtle, silent weapon.

🎧 In this episode, we explore:

• Erin Patterson’s childhood and the psychology of invisibility
• Her marriage to Simon Patterson and family tensions with her in-laws
• The fatal lunch and the slow horror of death cap poisoning
• How investigators pieced together her lies and discarded evidence
• The trial that made history as Victoria’s first televised sentencing
• Why poison has been called “the weapon of women” throughout history

🧠 This isn’t just a murder case. It’s about control, betrayal, and how ordinary life can hide extraordinary darkness.

📍 One woman. One meal. A Sunday lunch that turned into one of Australia’s most shocking crimes.

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Chapters

• 0:00 Introduction to the Mushroom Murderer
• 2:07 Erin Patterson's Early Life
• 4:12 The Strain of Marriage
• 5:26 The Fatal Family Dinner
• 7:36 Investigating Suspicion
• 9:01 The Courtroom Drama
• 9:55 The Psychology of Poison
• 11:28 The Femme Fatale Unveiled

Transcript

0:00

It's a cold, gray afternoon in the quiet town of Leongatha, Victoria, Australia. July 29th, 2023. Fog drapes over the rolling hills. They're heavy and damp, but there is a sweet scent of wet earth and eucalyptus that lingers in the air. The streets are quiet, interrupted only by the distant hum of a lawnmower or a child's bicycle rattling over pavement. There's a dog barking two houses down. It was an ordinary day in an ordinary town. But inside one home on Gibson Street, the atmosphere is different. There are warm lights glowing against the dim afternoon. A table has been set with deliberate care. Polish, cutlery, align perfectly. Plates stacked neatly. Glasses waiting for wine. From the oven, the aroma of beef wellington. It fills the room. It's rich and intoxicating. There are pastry crisps and bubbles in its juices and the earthly scent of mushrooms mingling with tender meat. To the outside world, it would smell like love and comfort and tradition. And to those seated at the table, it feels like reconciliation. But within that dish lies something lethal. Erin Patterson moves quietly around the kitchen. Her expression is calm almost unreadable she greets her guests dawn and gail patterson her estranged in-laws with them is gail's sister heather wilkinson and her husband ian he's a respected local pastor and they chat about church about family and about the ordinary life there in their lovely town there's laughter. The clink of forks and knives and the scrape of chairs against linoleum floors. For a moment, it seems like family harmony. But with every bite, death is already moving through their bodies. Welcome to GBRLIFE Transmissions. I'm your host, Kaitlyn, and you're listening to GBRLIFE of Crimes, where we explore not just what happened in crimes committed by women, but why they happened and the psychology behind them. Today, we're diving into the case of Erin Patterson, a woman dubbed the Mushroom Murderer, a story not of sudden violence, but of slow poisoning, a crime that took place not in the shadows, but in the daylight of a Sunday meal, and perhaps the most unsettling part of all, it happened at a family table. To understand Erin Patterson, we need to return to her beginnings. Erin was born and raised in rural Victoria. Her childhood was unremarkable, at least from the outside. She went to local schools, walked the same dusty roads as her classmates, and grew up in a small community where everyone knew everyone. It was the kind of environment where gossip traveled faster than wind, and reputations mattered deeply. Friends described her as shy, even bookish. Teachers said she was capable, but quiet. The kind of student who did her work, but rarely raised her hand. Erin wasn't a rebel. She didn't shout, she followed rules, and she blended into the background. She wasn't the girl people noticed. She was the one people forgot. But invisibility leaves scars. And psychologists say children who grow up overlooked often struggle to feel seen as adults. They may avoid confrontation, bottle resentment, and quietly carry anger that never finds a voice. They learn to smile on the outside while holding turmoil within. Erin's quiet childhood didn't mark her as dangerous, but it did teach her how to disappear into plain sight and how to carry silence like a weapon. And as an adult, Erin seemed to follow the expected path. She married Simon Patterson. They built what appeared to be a stable suburban life in Leongatha. A house, children, weekend routines. Outwardly, they were ordinary, but marriages can fracture quietly. Over time, the bond between Erin and Simon frayed. By 2023, they were estranged, connected only through their children. Simon's parents, Don and Gail, remained deeply involved in his life. They were pillars of their community. Respected, trusted, known for their faith and generosity. For Erin, their presence may have felt suffocating. Their loyalty to Simon meant that at every family gathering, she felt like the outsider. She smiled. She served food. She played her part, but under the surface was tension. Erin wasn't just invisible anymore, she was scrutinized. For someone shaped by a lifetime of invisibility, that scrutiny cut even deeper. Resentment hardened. And in the space where acceptance never came, control became the thing she longed for most. And on July 29th, Erin extended an invitation, a Sunday meal, Beef Wellington. The choice of dish mattered because it was elaborate, impressive, the kind of meal that said, this is important. And to her guests, it may have seemed like an olive branch. To Erin, perhaps it was something else entirely. The guest sat down. Ian said grace. His voice was soft and steady. Dawn complimented the smell of the dish, and Gail poured wine into glasses. Heather laughed about a story from her grandchildren. The clink of silverware against plates filled the room. For a moment, it was a picture of family. But hidden inside the mushroom filling, what the death cap mushroom, one of the most toxic fungi in the world, just a single cap can destroy a human liver. The toxin doesn't act instantly. Hours pass before the first symptoms appear, by which at that point it's already too late as aaron watched her family eat the poison was already working by evening the first signs appeared dawn felt nauseous gail complained of cramps heather grew pale and ian tried to remain composed but soon he was violently ill at first it seemed like food poisoning but as the hours passed the symptoms worsened. Ambulances were called. Doctors tried everything, fluids, medications, desperate attempts to stabilize failing organs, but death caps, they do their damage silently, relentlessly. Don and Gail succumbed first. Heather followed, and Ian survived after intensive care. But survival gave him devastation, because he awoke to learn that his wife and his in-laws were gone. The family, once whole, was gone. If you're not wondering, why wasn't Simon invited? Well, he was. He was invited, but he was absent that day. So he lived. And investigators wondered if his absence was the only reason for his survival. And was he the intended target all along? Suspicion immediately fell on Erin. Police questioned her, pressed her for answers. At first, she said she bought the mushrooms from an Asian grocery store. Later, she claimed she couldn't remember, and her story shifted. Her memory blurred. Then came the food dehydrator. Found discarded at a local tip. Why throw it away unless there was something to hide? Detectives uncovered more. Online searches, inconsistencies, whispers from neighbors about Simon's previous mysterious illness after another meal Erin had prepared. Had there been earlier attempts? The picture of an unlucky cook crumbled. In its place was the portrait of a planner, a deceiver. And the community was horrified. The town that prided itself on safety and trust and being a small town with their bonds now carried a darker legacy. A family meal turned into a murder scene. By 2025, Erin Patterson's case became national, even international news. The courtroom filled with reporters. Outside, satellite trucks lined the streets. the world watched and for the first time in Victoria's history, everyone was going to find out where Erin stood on live broadcast. She stood small and pale. As Justice Christopher delivered his judgment, he called her actions calculated and callous, cloaked in betrayal. He sentenced her to three life sentences plus 25 years with a minimum non-parole period of 33 years. The quiet woman from rural Victoria, once invisible, was now infamous. Why poison? Why mushroom? Poison has long been called the weapon of choice for women. It is subtle, patient, and often disguised as care. A poison drink looks like love. A poison meal looks like reconciliation. Victims swallow trust itself. Poisoners often avoid confrontation, but they do seek control, and control is delivered in silence. For Erin, the beef Wellington was both food and message. It said, I control who lives and who dies. Her quiet childhood, her strained marriage, her resentment of her in-laws, all of it converged in one dish. The mushroom murders horrify us, not just because of the deaths, but because of where they happened. A family table over a meal meant to symbolize trust, unity, love. Erin Patterson turned that symbol into betrayal. So who is Erin Patterson? The quiet girl overlooked since childhood? The resentful wife judged by her in-laws, or the calculating psychopath, now poisoner, who served death across a table. The court decided, but fascination lingers, because Erin embodies the essence of the femme fatale, ordinary on the outside, but deadly beneath the surface. And maybe that's the true horror, not the poison itself, but the reminder that sometimes danger sits across from you, smiling faintly as she serves you lunch. This has been GBRLIFE of Crimes, part of GBRLIFE Transmissions, and I'm Kaitlyn reminding you that understanding the darkness helps us appreciate the light. Join me next time as we uncover another case that challenges everything we thought we knew about the criminal mind.