Food has always been a part of my life, but it was something I didn’t realize I loved until later. In the kitchen, I feel a sense of calm, creativity, and clear direction. It just took me a little while to understand what that meant.
Before this, I was a social worker for ten years, working in group homes, shelters, and professional reporting roles. I went into social work with a desire to help people and to feel connected to humanity in all its forms. The work was hard, occasionally rewarding, but ultimately, I realized it was not sustainable for me.
It was on a trip to New York with my husband in 2019 (for fleet week) that my next path started to become clear. After eating at some very upscale restaurants, my husband was surprised by my attention to detail and how naturally I analyzed each dish we ate. I noticed flavour, texture, balance, and the small changes that could shift an experience from good to memorable. In short, I was a bit picky.
That trip started a bigger conversation about a career change into the culinary field. My husband encouraged me and said I could seitch jobs and could either be a Food Critic or a Chef. “Could I really leave my job?” I wondered. I had always felt most relaxed and at home in the kitchen. Food energized me. It held my focus. It kept me curious in a way I knew could continue to grow for years. So, in January 2020, I enrolled in culinary school.
After graduating in 2021 with a Culinary Management Diploma from Algonquin College, I began to wonder whether a traditional kitchen environment would be sustainable for me. I have an autoimmune disease that was diagnosed in 2019, and long days in the kitchen were difficult on my body. At the same time, my then-undiagnosed neurodivergence meant I was burning out quickly from the sensory input of a typical kitchen.
It became clear that I needed to build something that worked with my strengths, supported my way of cooking, and respected the limitations I had.
At first, my husband and I dreamed of a farm-to-table restaurant located in a greenhouse, with limited seating and a more sensory-sensitive environment. It was fully designed. The business plan was completed. So many pieces were in place. But over time, the scale of that venture stopped being the right next step.
So I went back to the drawing board.
What you see here now is the result of that reworking. It is smaller in scale than the original restaurant dream, but the heart of it is still the same: food, beauty, connection, curiosity, and care.
My supper clubs are designed to bring people together through a shared and unique food experience. Private dining offers the feeling of a restaurant-style meal in the comfort of someone’s home, where the food and ambiance are taken care of. My curated picnic baskets are designed to get people outside with those who matter to them, sharing flavour combinations that delight the senses and spark conversation.
Each offering is a different expression of the same thing I love most: creating space for shared moments of curiosity and wonder.
As I release this website and this vision into the world, I feel a bit vulnerable and a lot excited. This path has not been straight, but I feel ready. I know this format is more sustainable for me, and I am excited to share my love of food, create new connections, and keep building from here.
I hope you’ll join me at the table.