Whenever I serve this meal, my husband’s face lights up.

Hi there—I’m Madison Rae, but everyone just calls me Maddy. I’m 38 years old, born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina, and these days I run a small but lively kitchen tucked in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains. My hands smell like garlic more often than not, and my happiest moments are when I’m elbow-deep in a pot of something simmering, rich, and a little unpredictable.

I didn’t grow up in a culinary family. My mom was a school librarian, and my dad fixed motorcycles. But there was always food around—big Sunday breakfasts, church potlucks, and neighbors dropping off casseroles “just because.” I learned early that food isn’t just nourishment—it’s connection, comfort, and sometimes, even courage. My first real foray into cooking came when I was twelve and decided to surprise my parents with shrimp and grits. The grits were lumpy, the shrimp rubbery, and I mistook cayenne for paprika, but they smiled and ate every bite. That night, something clicked—I could feed people, really feed them.

After college, I worked every job you can imagine—hostess, barista, pastry assistant, line cook—anything to stay close to the heat. I eventually studied at the Culinary Institute of America, but honestly, most of my learning happened shoulder-to-shoulder with folks who’d been cooking long before me, in diners, food trucks, and open-air barbecues. I’ve burnt things, over-salted plenty, and once accidentally lit a towel on fire during a catering gig (don’t ask). But each mistake made me better—and more humble.

These days, my cooking leans rustic with Southern roots, but I’m always pulling in new flavors. I’ve fallen in love with Korean gochujang, Moroccan preserved lemons, and the slow joy of making pasta by hand. I don’t believe in rules for the sake of rules—just respect for ingredients, patience, and a willingness to taste as you go.

I write my own recipes now, but more importantly, I try to make cooking feel doable. Whether you’ve got a pantry full of spices or just salt and pepper, there’s always something beautiful you can create. I want home cooks to know they don’t have to be perfect. Just curious. Just hungry. Just willing to try.

Thanks for stopping by my little corner of the culinary world. If you’re looking for hearty food, honest stories, and the occasional kitchen mishap, you’re in the right place. Let’s get cooking.