My childhood was full of dreamy days in the woods, music and storytelling. From the start, I was drawn to every experience or mention of food and wanted to reenact the charm of the moment via food. Sizzling chickens cooking over an open hearth, honey collected in pots, treacle, curds and whey, second breakfast, elevenses, carrot tops and fresh picked turnips; cups of tea with riddles and rabbits, fresh baked bread dolls, a catchy song about blueberry pie, so on and so forth.

Visits to the family cabin in the mountains of Virginia encouraged food as a medium to experience the world around me. It was here that I whittled away whole days hoping to beat the woodland creatures to the last of the Alpine strawberries on the ridge. I picked and ate wild persimmon, wineberries, pawpaw and walnut. We canned peaches, ate cherry tomatoes vine to mouth, and gawked at the maidenhair stalks of asparagus. I have distinct memories of my mother hanging mint and comfrey for tea. There were warm bowls of polenta and homemade soup. My father made frothy vanilla milkshakes for an occasional but memorable breakfast treat. We made garden salads straight from the garden, there were homemade pies from my grandmother and everyone looked forward to panettone, tortellini, stuffing, and crispy turkey skin around the holidays.

As an adult those transformative years of edible whimsy turned into a full-blown culinary career. My journey as a chef has included, working the line at a variety of restaurants, catering all manner of events, many years as a personal and private chef, and now my journey brings me to you as culinary blogger. I am so excited to share the knowledge I’ve gained and the culinary adventures I continue to have. I am honored to connect you to the people, places and things that inspire me in the hope of inspiring you.