Some of our best memories happen in the kitchen.
In our home, the kitchen sits (literally) at the center of the house. It’s the reason I pleaded with my husband to go back and look at this house a second and third time when we were searching for the home to raise our family. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I loved about it at first — there was plenty we didn’t like. But then I noticed where the kitchen sat, and that settled it for me. That instinct turned out to be right.
We spend a lot of time in the kitchen preparing meals and sharing conversations. When we cook together, and for each other, all our senses remember.
I come from an Irish family — my dad grew up on a farm in Ireland. My husband is Italian, and his mom cooked most of their food from scratch. As an adult, I learned to cook partly through professional training and partly on my own, picking up things along the way from great home cooks that I admired and special women in my life. Once I became a nutrition practitioner, I spent years connecting with local farmers and attending conferences on farming practices, which deepened my seasonal understanding of food, the soil it’s grown in, and my love of community.
I take my Italian inspiration from the simplicity of cucina povera, blending with the warmth of Irish tradition, because good food doesn’t need to be extravagant to be delicious. We cook simply, gather with intention, and nourish with flavor.