My name is Marlene Jacobs, and I’m 43 years old, currently living in the heart of Brooklyn, New York. I’ve been cooking for as long as I can remember—probably since I could just about see over the countertop in my grandma’s kitchen in Charleston, South Carolina. She had this way of making magic out of the simplest ingredients—okra, cornmeal, butter beans—and I was hooked before I ever even knew what “sauté” meant.

I never went to culinary school, but life has been my classroom. I’ve learned through trial and error, through scorched pans and surprise successes, and through the many meals shared around a too-small table with too many people—and that’s just how I like it. I worked in cafés and diners through my twenties, then spent a few wild years traveling the Southwest, picking up flavors, stories, and spice tricks from roadside taco trucks and Navajo elders who showed me how to fry bread over an open flame.

When I finally settled in New York, it was like all those little culinary puzzle pieces started fitting together. The city’s a melting pot—sometimes literally when I’m juggling five pots at once in my tiny kitchen—but it’s also the most vibrant pantry I’ve ever known. Korean chili flakes next to Sicilian anchovies next to Brooklyn-roasted coffee beans. It’s a cook’s dream.

What I love most is sharing what I know with other home cooks. Not fancy stuff—though I can whip up a mean duck confit when the mood strikes—but the kind of food that brings people together. A pot of gumbo on a rainy day. Buttermilk biscuits that make your house smell like home. Or even a last-minute pasta tossed with whatever’s in the fridge but somehow turns out perfect.

I’m not afraid of kitchen mishaps. I’ve burned enough cookies and over-salted enough stews to know that cooking isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence. It’s about caring enough to keep stirring, to try again, to keep your knives sharp and your heart open.

So if you’re here, reading this, maybe you’re looking for a little guidance or just someone who gets it—that cooking at home can be a little chaotic, a little messy, and a whole lot rewarding. I hope my journey, my joy, and my occasional burnt toast can help light your own path through the kitchen. Let’s cook something wonderful together.